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ELEMENTS 



OF 



INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



BY 



REV. JOSEPH ALDEN, D.D., LL.D., 

LATE PRESIDENT OF JEFFERSON COLLEGE. 



NEV/ YORK: 

B, APPLETON" & CO., 90, 92 & 94 GRAND ST. 

1868. 






EwTEKED, according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1866, hy 

J). viPPLETON & CO., 

Id thf Clcrk'£ Ofllce of the District Court of the United States for tlie 
Southern District of lle^v York. 



^-€a.. 




TO 

WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 



As a poet yoih deal with reality. You have 
written that only which you have seen^ felt^ and 
fully Relieved. In preparing this elementary worh 
on Philosophy J I have endeavored to pursue a simi- 
lar course, I tahe great pleasure in dedicating it 
to - one whose friendship I have long regarded as 
among the highest honors of my life. 

Joseph Aldeh. 



OOlsrTEI^TS, 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGB 

Introductory Remarks, . . . . .13 



CHAPTER II. 

The Mind's Cognizing Power — Faculties — Mental An- 
alysis, . . . . . . .19 

CHAPTER III. 

Object of a Text-book — ^Metaphorical Language in Re- 
lation TO Mental Operations, . . ,25 

CHAPTER lY. 
Cognition of Material Objects, . . . .81 

CHAPTER y. 
Extension—Figure — ^Original and Acquired Perception, 87 



6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER YI. 

PAGE 

Primary and Secondary Qualities of Matter, . . 44 

CHAPTER YII. 

Theories of Perception — Locke — Berkeley, , . 48 

CHAPTER YIII. 

Theories of Perception — Reid— Brown, . . .55 

CHAPTER IX. 
Theory of Sir William Hamilton, . , .63 

CHAPTER X. 
Relativity of Knowledge, . . . , .71 

CHAPTER XI. 

Remarks on the Nature of Perception, , . .80 

CHAPTER XII. 

Cognition of Mental Operations — Personality — Unity — 

Identity — Consciousness, . . . .84 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Cognition of Space, ...... 100 

CHAPTER XIY. 
Cognition of Time, . . . . . .107 



COKTEIS^TS. 



CHAPTER XY. 

PAGE 

Cognition op Relations, . . . . .111 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Resemblance and Generalization — General and Abstract 

Terms, ....... 115 

CHAPTER XYII. 

Cause and Effect, ...... 128 

CHAPTER XYIII. 

Cognition of Beauty, . . . . . 147 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Cognition op Rectitude, . . , , .163 

CHAPTER XX. 

Reasoning, . . . . . , . 189 

» 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Mathematical Reasoning, . . . . • 20S 

CHAPTER XXII. 
The Syllogism, ...... 215 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
Memory^ ..... 223 



8 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXIY. 

PAGE 

Association, . . . . . , 240 

CHAPTER XXY. 
Imagination, ...,..• 248 

CHAPTER XXYI. 

TkeWill, . . . . . . .261 

CHAPTER XXYII. 

Attention, , • • . . . . , 280 

CHAPTER XXYIII. 

Understanding and Reason — Faith — Infinity, . . 284 



PREFACE 



The object of this book is not to teach a system 
of philosophy, but to aid the student in studying 
subjects which are adapted to promote fixedness 
of attention and discrimination of thought, .and 
which underlie all thinking pertaining to human 
action and progress. This object has determined 
the selection of topics, and the mode of treating 
them. The topics treated relate chiefly to the 
cognitive faculties. The general plan is indicated 
by the following questions : Wliat can the mind 
do ? How does it do it ? 

The book might well enough be termed " Ele- 
mentary Exercises in Thinking.^' In an experience 
of more than a quarter of a century as a college 



1 PEEFACE. 

teacher, tlie autlior found that lie was successful 
just in proportion as lie was elementary in liis 
instructions. If men become familiar with the 
alphabet of thinking, they are prepared for pro- 
gress toward profoundness. 

In accordance with the object above stated, no 
topic has received an exhaustive djscussion ; and 
yet no topic has received superficial consideration. 
The first books put into the hands of the student 
should not be commonplace compilations, but 
should be characterized by a freshness, vivacity, 
and clearness of thought which luay be communi- 
cated to his mind. This v/ill be of more value 
than numberless propositions committed to mem- 
ory. 

The book may be found serviceable to those 
desirous of improvement who may not be favored 
with a teacher. They will find no difficulty in 
understanding it. The author believes that there 
is nothing cognizable in philosophy which cannot be 
clearly expressed in good English ; though, as Dr. 
Chalmers remarks, he "is fully aware that whoso- 
ever, in treating of the human mind, aims to be 



PEEFACE. 11 

understood, must lay liis account with forfeiting, in 
the opinion of a very large proportion of Ms read- 
ers, all pretensions to depth, to subtlety, and to 
invention." 

The author has no desire to inspire a love of 
metaphysical disputation, or of metaphysical lore. 
The object of education is to fit men for the service 
of God here and hereafter. Life here is for wise 
action. Habits of sober and accurate thought are 
among the conditions of wise action. Such habits 
the study of philosophy should form. 

The teacher v/hose views of the end and method 
of teaching correspond with those of the author, 
will find the boot abundantly large enough for the 
length of time usually devoted to this study in our 
schools and colleges. The college teacher who 
may see fit to use it, may find that his discussions 
with his pupils in connection with the text, will 
prepare them to understand and appreciate the 
supplementary lectures which he will doubtless feel 
inclined to prepare. 

Should the work meet the approbation of teach- 
ers, and be used as a text-book to a considerable 



12 PKEFACE. 

extent, it is the intention of tlie author to prepare, 

for the benefit of those who have entered upon a 

course in philosophy under his guidance, a volume 

embracing additional topics and more extended 

investigations. 

J. A. 



ELEMEITTS 



IlsTTELLEOTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



CHAPTER I. 

IK-TBODUCTOKT EEMABKS. 

Nfmerous definitions of pMlosopliy have been 
given. It would be of no advantage to repeat them. 
"We have before us a field to explore. It is of com- 
paratively little importance what name we give to 
the field, or to the process of exploration. 

A perfect definition of a science must include all 
that belongs to it, and exclude all that does not belong 
to it. It marks, therefore, the completion, not the 
commencement of the science. 

When used with reference to investigations which 
have the mind for their subject, the term philosophy 
is synonymous with science. Mental philosophy and 
mental science are the same. 

Mental philosophy has the mind for its subject- 



14 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPnT. 

matter; just as natural philosophy has the material 
world for its subject-matter. 

The mind is a spiritual existence which perceives, 
remembers, imagines, loves, etc. ; that is, which per- 
forms operations which we call perceiving, remem- 
bering, imagining, loving. 

Existence cannot be defined. There is no such 
thing, as existence, apart from things existing. Every 
one knows what it is for a thing to be — to exist. To 
the questions. What is being ? In what does existence 
consist ? no answers conveying information can be 
given. 

The mind is a spiritual existence. By spiritual is 
meant that which is not material — the antithesis of 
material. We describe the mind positively, when we 
stat'$ what it can do. We describe it negatively, 
when we state that it has none of the qualities of 
matter. 

The mind is self-active, and can think, feel, and 
will. Matter is inert, extended, and divisible. Ob- 
jects with qualities so different cannot reasonably be 
regarded as identical. 

We know the mind as connected with the bodyo 
Its action is modified by the body. The acts which 
we term mental acts are the acts of mind connected 
with a material organization. What acts a disem- 
bodied mind can perform, v/e do not know. Our 
knowledge is confined to acts of mind united to the 
body. 



INTEODUCTOIIY REMARKS. 15 

A mental act may be conditioned on a state of the 
body; but it is, nevertheless, an act of the mind. An 
act of perception may be conditioned on the state of 
the brain; but the brain without the mind cannot 
perform an act of perception. The act is therefore a 
mental act. A pain felt in the finger is felt by the 
mind ; for, if the mind be taken av/ay, no laceration 
of the finger will occasion pain. 

The first thing to be done in studying the science 
of mind, is to observe the operations of the mind. 
The mind can observe its own operations. It can 
make its own operations the object of attention, just 
as it can make the operations of a sewing-machine 
the object of attention. 

The mind sees the operations of the machine 
through the instrumentality of the eyes. It sees its 
own operations by a direct beholding. The question, 
"How can the mind cognize its own operations?" is 
as easily answered as the question, "How can the 
mind cognize the operations of a machine ? " 

It is sometimes said that we cognize our mental 
acts by means of consciousness — as though conscious- 
ness were an instrument by which we cognize them. 

We must be careful to avoid, mistaking words for 
things — imaginary processes for real processes. To 
say that we cognize our mental operations by means 
of consciousness, is simply to say that we do cognize 
them. To say that consciousness informs us of what 
takes pikce in our minds, is simply to say that the 



IG ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

mind cognizes its own operations. Such forms of 
expression do not explain how the cognition takes 
place. 

Some writers have used language which would 
seem to imply that a definite act or operation of 
consciousness, is necessary to make known to us each 
thought and feeling ; that without the putting forth 
of such an act, our thoughts and feelings would be 
unknown to us. A ymter says, "Consciousness is 
the faculty by which the various powers of the mind 
are made known to us." If by this he means to 
assert that the mind must put forth action in order 
that we may know what pov»^ers of action it possesses, 
the assertion is true ; but if he means to assert that 
a separate and peculiar act of consciousness is neces- 
sary to make known to us our mental acts, just as an 
act of perception is necssary to make known to us 
the existence of external objects, the assertion is not 
true. It lacks proof. It leads to an absurdity. 

We have a mental act — an act of memory, we 
will suppose. According to the theory above stated, 
an act of consciousness is necessary to make known 
to us that act of memory. This act of consciousness, 
being a mental act, must needs have another act of 
consciousness to make it known to us, and that 
another, and so on ad infinitmn! 

This erroneous view is the result of supposing that 
there is an analogy between the mode by which the 
mind cognizes external objects, and the mode by 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 1*? 

which it cognizes its own operations. False analogies 
and imaginary mental processes are frequent sources 
of error. 

Accurate observation of our mental operations is 
difficult. The habit of observation can be formed by 
earnest and patient effort. No progress can be made 
in the study of mind^ unless this habit be formed. 
The operations of the mind, the facts which are the 
subjects of study, must, in every instance, be observed 
by the student for himself. Facts recorded by others 
will be of no service to him, except as they enable 
him to see them for himself. "Instruction can do 
little more than point out the position in which the 
pupil ought to place himself, in order to verify, by 
his own experience, the facts which his instructor 
proposes to him as true." The pupil may " get by 
heart " systems of philosophy (so called) ; but little 
or no benefit will result beyond that of improving a 
verbal memory. 

It may be a useful exercise for the young student 
to reverse his train of thought. Let him observe 
what thought now occupies his mind ; then let him 
endeavor to recall the thought which immediately 
preceded it, and so on, as far as recollection will ena« 
ble him to go. He will thus be aided in making his 
mental acts the object of attention. 

Let the pupil, at the outset, resolve to be satisfied 
with nothing short of clear definite ideas in relation 
to the subject considered. Earnest and steady look- 



18 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 



ing at a subject, will render that clear which at first 
appears confused and obscure, or will enable him to 
decide that there are no materials for positive definite 
knowledge before him. Let the line between what 
he sees, and what he does not see, be clearly drawn. 



CHAPTER IL 



AK"ALYSIS. 



The mind has capacities for action. It can do 
various things. It can know, it can feel, it can will. 

It can perform different acts of knowing, that is, 
it can acquire different kinds of knowledge, and can 
acquire knowledge under different conditions. It can 
cognize the existence and qualities of matter. It can 
cognize the relations between geometrical figures. It 
can cognize, to some extent, the causes of events. It 
can cognize the difference between right and wrong. 
These different acts of the mind are distinguishable, 
and can be classified. We can form classes of mental 
acts. 

These classes exist as classes in our minds only. 
As our mental operations actually take place, those 
belonging to different classes are blended. The suc- 
cessive mental acts of an hour may include examples 
from all the classes formed. The mind does not per- 
form one class of acts exclusively for a time, and then 
pass to the performance of acts of another class. 



20 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Acts of a particular class may predominate at a given 
time, but various other acts are interspersed with 
them, or are contemporaneous. 

A man may be viewing a landscape. He is ear- 
nestly engaged in cognizing its different points of in- 
terest — the hill, the stream, the grove, the cottage. 
Perceptions constitute the majority of his mental acts, 
but other acts intervene. He remembers having seen 
similar objects: he infers that the occupant of the cot- 
tage must be a man of taste. Recollections and in- 
ferences are thus blended with his perceptions. 

Mental acts are classified on the principle of re- 
semblance. The resemblance has reference to the ob- 
jects acted upon by the mind. 

We can look upon the different operations of a 
machine, and can compare the operations, as well as 
the results produced. Not so with the mind. The 
acts of the mind, regarded as analogous to the revolu- 
tion of the wheels of a machine, are invisible — incog- 
nizable. We cannot see how the mind perceives : we 
see that it does perceive, and what it perceives. We 
can compare mental operations in their results only. 

In view of the different objects which the mind 
can act upon — in view of the different things which 
the mind can do, we can classify its operations, and 
ascribe the operations thus classified to different 
faculties. 

A faculty is not a component part of the mind. 
The mind is not made up of faculties as its constitu- 



THE mind's OOGNIZIKG POWER. 21 

ent parts. When the mind is cognizmg external ob- 
jects, we say it is exercising the faculty of percep- 
tion. When it is recalling past thoughts, we say it 
is exercising the faculty of memory. When it is cog- 
nizing a truth by the aid of other truths, we say it 
is exercising the faculty of reasoning. We use the 
term faculty to express the different modes of the 
mind's action. We must remember that it is the 
mind which perceives, remembers, reasons ; not 
something separate from it termed a faculty. A 
faculty denotes a power of the mind to act in a par- 
ticular way. 

We may regard the mind as having a greater or 
smaller number of faculties, according as we form a 
greater or smaller number of classes of mental 
operations. We may form a greater or smaller 
number of classes, according as we pass by or no- 
tice minor differences in the objects acted upon by 
the mind. 

The mind can cognize truth. We say it has a 
faculty for cognizing truth. It can cognize different 
kinds of truth. It can cognize truth relating to 
mq^terial objects. It can cognize truth relating to 
human duty. It can cognize truth relating to space 
and numbers. We may thus form three classes of 
truths, viz., material, moral, and mathematical. We 
may thus ascribe to the mind three cognitive facul- 
ties. 
. We may carry our classification still further, and 



22 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PKILOSOPIIY. 

speak of a greater number of cognitive faculties, 
and speak in accordance with the truth. We may 
ascribe to the mind a greater or smaller number of 
faculties, and may state nothing but truth in so 
doing. The question before the student is not, how 
many faculties has the mind, but what operations 
can it perform ? In determining this question, it is 
convenient for us to classify the operations we ob- 
serve. We need to form classes enough to include 
all the operations of the mind. There may be a 
needless yet truthful multiplication of classes, and, 
consequently, of faculties. Let it be remembered 
that the term faculty is used simply to denote a par- 
ticular mode of the mind's action. 

It has been said, that the method to be pursued in 
the study of mental philosophy is the same as in 
natural philosophy, viz., to observe facts, and infer 
principles or laws. The remark requires some modi- 
fication, in consequence of the difference in the mate- 
rials composing the two sciences. The instrument 
by which both are studied is the same ; but the 
subjects differ. The one is inert matter; the other 
is self-active mind. In both cases we are to observe 
facts ; but in the one case we ask, What are the 
passive phenomena before us, and to what laws are 
they subject ? In the other case we ask. What can 
the mind do ? The difference does not relate so 
much to method, as to the attitude of mind. There 
is some advantage in viewing the mental phenomena 



THE mind's cognizing POWER. 23 

as the acts of- a voluntary being, instead of viewing 
tlieni' as succeeding each other according to certain 

laws. 

The student must form the habit of analyzing his 
mental operations. 

To analyze a chemical substance, is to resolve it 
into its constituent elements. A simple substance 
cannot be analyzed. To analyze a mental process, is 
to separate, in thought, the different mental acts 
which constitute that process, A simple mental act 
cannot be analyzed. 

The mind is seldom in a simple state ; that is, is 
seldom employed in performing a simple act. It is 
seldom that one simple thought is present to the 
rnind to the exclusion of all other thoughts. To 
notice separately the different acts or states which 
constitute a given complex state, is to analyze that 
complex state. 

One is looking upon a meadow. The state of his 
mind is that of perception. There are various ob- 
jects before him— grass, lilies, trees, cattle. He 
hears the songs of the birds, and the murmur of the 
rivulet by Vr^hich he is standing. The state of his 
mind is complex, and consists of various perceptions 
by means of the eye and the ear. .To notice them 
separately in thought, is to analyze that complex 
state. 

The habit of analyzing our mental states is adapt- 
ed to promote nice discrimination. Skill in distin- 



24 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

guishing between nice shades of color is desirable ; 
but skill in distinguishing between nice shades of 
thought is still more desirable. He who would be- 
come an acute thinker, must train his mind to habits 
of mental analysis. 



CHAPTER III, 

OBJECT OF A TEXT-BOOK — METAPHOEICAL LANGUAGE 
IN EELATIOI^ TO MENTAL OPERATIONS. 

To Yiew truths directly, and not through the me- 
dium of another's mind, or from a traditional stand- 
point, should be the object of every student. His 
text-book should be used as the traveller uses his 
guide-book. 

The traveller visits Rome. He gets a guide-book, 
that he may know where to go, and what to see. 
Each morning he consults his guide-book, and by its 
aid forms the plans of the day. He visits St. Peter's 
and the Vatican, and examines the objects mentioned 
in his guide-book. He does not spend his time in 
committing to memory the descriptions contained in 
the book, but in seeing the objects described. When 
questioned respecting St. Peter's and the Vatican, he 
does not repeat from memory what he has read, but 
tells what he has seen. 

So with a text-book in mental science. Its object 
is not* to tell men what to believe, but what to see. 
2' 



26 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

TJnless a man becomes a seer^ he derives no advan- 
tage from Ms text-book or his teacher. 

The student must guard against being misled by 
the use of metaphorical language. Many of the 
terms employed to denote the operations of the mind 
are metaphorical. They were originally employed to 
express material objects and material phenomena. 

We call a certain operation or state of mind, a 
mental image. We speak of having in our minds an 
image of the Capitol, or of some other remarkable 
edifice. In reality, there can be no resemblance be- 
tween the Capitol and that state of mind — that con- 
dition of an immaterial, invisible existence — which we 
call having an image or picture of the Capitol in the 
mind. We must be on our guard, lest the use of the 
term image should modify our view of the state of 
mind to which it is applied. 

We speak of a deep impression made upon the 
memory, and of its erasure by time. The language 
is metaphorical, and should not lead us to suppose 
that there is an analogy between an impression upon 
wax and an impression upon memory. And yet 
this assumed analogy is sometimes used to account 
for facts. For instance, it is a fact made known by 
observation and experience, that some minds remem- 
ber events very easily for a time, but do not remem- 
ber them long. To account for the fact, it is said 
that impressions easily made are easily effaced : this 
passes for an explanation of the fact above stated. ^ 



OBJECT OF A TEXT-BOOK, ETC. 27 

State the matter thus : Impressions easily made 
on material objects are, for the most part, easily 
effaced: therefore things easily committed to mem- 
ory are easily forgotten. Every one sees that the 
conclusion does not follow from the premise. 

The explanation owes its plausihility to the sup- 
posed analogy between impressions on matter and 
the mental act of remembering. There is no such 
analogy. The idea is suggested by the metaphorical 
use of the term impression. The student must be on 
his guard against being thus misled. 

He must also avoid drawing literal conclusions 
from figurative premises. For example, conscience is 
said to be the voice of God in the soul : hence, its 
dictates must be infallibly correct. 

The premise is figurative ; the conclusion literal. 
The expression, " Conscience the voice of God in the 
soul," means, " God has given the soul power to cog- 
nize the difference between right and wrong — to cog- 
nize duty and its opposite." Give the premise a lit- 
eral form, and the matter stands thus : God has 
given the mind power to cognize the difference be- 
tween right and wrong; therefore all its decisions 
are infallible. With just as much truth it may be 
said, " God has given the mind power to distinguish 
between truth and error; therefore all its decisions 
are infallible." 

" Although," says Sir William Drummond, " it be 
very difficult to speak of the mind without employ- 



28 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ing figurative language and without borrowing from 
analogy, yet it is altogether unphilosoj)hical to build 
an argument on a trope, or found a system on a 
simile." 

Another source of error is that resulting from 
personification of the faculties. The ^difierent facul- 
ties, which, we have seen, are only different modes 
of the mind's operation, have been treated as sepa- 
rate and independent personalities, having extensive 
dealings with one another, and with their master, the 
mind. This source of error has been noticed by 
several writers, yet few have successfully guarded 
against it. Some eminent modern writers have, by 
their excessive personification of the faculties, poured 
confusion over the whole mental field. 

Hobbes censured " that metaphorical speech of 
attributing command and subjection to the faculties 
of the soul, as if they made a commonwealth or 
family within themselves, and could speak to one 
another." 

Locke says : " I suspect that this way of speaking 
of faculties has led many into a confused notion of 
so many distinct agents within us, which had their 
several provinces and authorities, and did command, 
obey, and perform several actions as so many distinct 
beings ; which has been no small occasion of wran- 
gling, obscurity, and uncertainty in questions relating 
to -them." 

Notice some illustrations of the error to be avoid- 



29 



ed. " The senses inform us of the existence of the 
external world." The senses are here represented as 
intelligent agents giving information to another intel- 
ligent agent, the mind — "ns." The truth intended 
to be conveyed is, " The mind, through the organs of 
sense, cognizes the external world." 

" Perception furnishes the memory and reason 
with materials on which to act." Avoiding personi- 
fication, the thought is, " The mind perceives truths, 
remembers them, and cognizes other truths by their 
aid." 

" When we attend to any change which happens 
in nature, judgment informs us that there must be a 
cause of this change." Literally, " When the mind 
attends to any change, it perceives that the change 
or event must have had a cause." The language 
used above implies that judgment is an agent sepa- 
rate from the mind, whereas it is an act of the mind. 

No writer has carried personification of the facul- 
ties to a greater length than has Kant. " Pure rea- 
son," he says, " leaves every thing to the understand- 
ing which refers immediately to the objects of the 
intuition, or rather to their synthesis in the imagina- 
tion." Here the mind disappears altogether, and 
certain imaginary entities take its place. 

"The understanding cannot perceive, and the 
senses cannot think." 

Here the faculties are represented as independent 
entities. Literally expressed, the thought is, " The 



30 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

mind cannot, except through the organism of the 
Benses, cognize material objects, and cannot cognize 
spiritual objects by the said organism of the senses." 

Cousin says : " The senses attest the existence of 
concrete quantities and bodies ; consciousness, the 
internal sense, attests the presence of a succession of 
thoughts, and of all the phenomena which pertain to 
personal identity ; but at the same time reason inter- 
venes, and pronounces that the relations of the quan- 
tities in question are abstract, universal, and neces- 
sary." 

The senses, consciousness, and reason, are here 
set forth as personages doing the work of the mind. 
To use such language in describing the acts of the 
one indivisible mind, tends to produce obscurity and 
error. 

The above illustrations show, that facts in rela- 
tion to the mind " should be stated in the simplest, 
most direct, and least figurative language we can 
select." When compelled to use metaphorical terms, 
we should notice exactly the meaning intended to be 
conveyed by them. 



CHAPTER IV. 

COGNITION^ OF MATERIAL OBJECTS. 

What can the mind do ? It can know — cognize — 
acquire knowledge. These forms of expression are 
identical. 

What can the mind cognize ? It can cognize 
matter — the external world. It cognizes matter 
through the senses. When it is asked. How can the 
mind cognize matter through the senses ? we can 
state the conditions of cognition, and that is all we 
can do. 

These conditions may he stated thus : An ob- 
ject is presented to the organ of sense. A tree, 
for example, is so presented that the light reflected 
from it enters the eye, and forms an image upon the 
retina, which is an expansion of the optic nerve in 
the back part of the eye. If the optic nerve and the 
brain be in a healthful state, the mind cognizes the 
tree — that is, perceives its existence, form, and color. 
Why these conditions are followed by cognitions, we 
do not know. God has so ordained. 
t If any of these conditions are wanting, cognition 



32 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

will not take place. If the eye is disordered so that 
an image is not formed on the retina — if the optic 
nerve or the brain be not in their normal state, cog- 
nition will not take j)lace. 

When we have stated the conditions of cognition, 
we have not told how the mind cognizes. The con- 
ditions are material or physiological ; the act of cog- 
nition is mental. Keeping in mind this distinction 
will aid us in avoiding error. The act of cognition 
is a simple act, and cannot be explained otherwise 
than by stating its conditions and results. We 
should never attempt to explain what is unexplain- 
able. 

We have stated the conditions of cognition by 
the sense of sight. In cognition by the sense of 
touch, the conditions are, that the object be brought 
in contact with the organ — the hand, for example — 
and that the connection formed by the nerves be- 
tween the organ and the brain be uninterrupted, and 
that the nerves and brain be in a normal state. 

In cognition by the ear, the vibrations of the 
air must strike upon the tympanum, and the impres- 
sion or affection thereby produced be transmitted, by 
means of the bones of the ear and the auditory 
nerve, to the brain. 

In cognition by taste, the object must be applied 
to the organ, and the impression transmitted to the 
brain. So in smelling. 

We call the effect of the presentation of the 



COGNITION^ OF MATERIAL OBJECTS. 33 

object to the organ, an impression. By this term 
we mean that change, whatever it may be, which 
experience has shown is necessary to cognition. The 
same may be said of the phrase, " transmitted by 
the nerves to the brain." We mean by it, that state 
of the nerves and .brain, whatever it may be, which 
experience has shown is necessary to cognition. 

How do we know that matter exists ? We see 
it — feel it — cognize it. Does the eye see it ? Does 
the hand feel it ? Take away the mind, and what 
can the eye or the hand do ? It is the mind that sees 
and feels. It is the mind which cognizes the exist- 
ence of the tree, just as it is the mind which cognizes 
the relation of equality between two and two. In 
the one case, the agency of the senses is nsed ; in the 
other, not. 

If it be asked. How do we know that things are 
as we perceive them to be ? How do we know that 
matter exists ? we can only reply, " We know it." 
We cannot doubt the direct, intuitive cognitions of 
our minds. We cannot doubt that the whole of an 
object is greater than its part. We cannot doubt 
that the tree standing before us exists. The ground 
of the certainty of our knowledge is, in both cases, 
the same. We must accept our intuitive cognitions 
as true. 

It is said that consciousness assures us of the 
truth of our cognitions. It has already been re- 
marked, that to see an object, and to be conscious 
2* .. 



34 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

that we see an object, is one and the same thing. To 
ask,. How do you know that you are conscious that 
you see an object ? is to ask, How do you know that 
you see it ? 

Some say. We are conscious of the state of mind 
termed cognition or j)erception, and of nothing else. 
We see an external object. The seeing — cognizing, 
is confessedly a mental act. Of its existence, it is 
said, we are certain ; but we are not certain of any 
thing else. We are not certain that there is any 
thing external corresponding to this state of mind, 
which alone is the object of consciousness. Thus we 
have no certainty of the existence of external objects. 

The error contained in the above statement con- 
sists in not taking the whole of the conscious state 
of mind into view. That of which we are conscious 
is this : we are conscious that we cognize the object. 
When we say we are conscious that we have a cogni- 
tion — a subjective state of mind — we have not stated 
the whole truth. Our consciousness embraces the 
cognition of the object. We are as certain that we 
cognize the object, as we are that we have a mental 
state. 

The term consciousness is properly coniSned to 
our mental operations. We cannot, in strict propri- 
ety, say that we are conscious of a tree ; but we can 
say we are conscious that we perceive a tree. 

If it be asked, What is the object of the mind in 
perception ? the reply is. The object perceived. The 



COGlSriTION OF MATERIAL OBJECTS. 35 

objects of cognition are tlie things cognized. If we 
scrutinize our mental operations, we shall find noth- 
ing but the act of mind and the objects perceived. 
If it be asked, How can the mind, which is spirit, act 
upon matter ? How can the mind act upon objects at a 
distance from it, as in the case of perception by the 
eye ? we reply. The mind does act on matter, so far as 
cognizing it is concerned, and it does cognize distant 
objects. In proof of this, we appeal to conscious- 
ness — that is, to observation of what takes place 
when we cognize external objects. 

Some philosophers have labored hard to discover 
how the idea of externality — of something external — 
is first acquired. It is acquired when the mind cog- 
nizes an external object. Whenever the mind cog- 
nizes an object out of the mind, it cognizes it as out 
of the mind. No one, in cognizing a material object 
by means of sight or touch, ever cognized it as a 
modification of his own mind, or as existing within 
his mind. 

Do we get the idea of something es.ternal through 
the agency of any of our senses except touch and 
sight ? Take the sense of hearing. Suppose a per- 
son destitute of all the senses except hearing. Let a 
violin be sounded near him. What would be the 
effect on his mind ? He would cognize a sound ; 
and he would cognize it as external to his own mind. 
He would have no knovfledge of the violin ; but he 
would have a knowledge of sound. He would not 



36 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPnY. 

have a knowledge of something external extended 
and offering resistance to muscular effort ; but he 
would have a knowledge of sound as external to his 
mind, and could probably infer the existence of a 
cause external to his mind. 

In like manner, we may have a knowledge of 
something external to us, in the exercise of all our 
senses. We get the idea of externality through all 
our senses ; but not, in all cases, the idea of extended 
externality. A distinction is to be made between 
externality extended and unextended. 



CHAPTER V. 

EXTENSIOIS" — ^FIGURE — ORIGIl^AL AND ACQUIRED PER- 
CEPTIONS. 

" It is certain that sight alone, and independently 
of touchj affords ns the idea of extension ; for exten- 
sion is the necessary object of vision, and we should 
see nothing if we did not see it extended. I even 
believe that sight must give us the notion of exten- 
sion more readily than touch, because sight makes us 
remark more promptly and permanently than touch 
that contiguity, and, at the same time, that distinc- 
tion of parts in which extension consists. Moreover, 
vision alone gives us the idea of the color of objects. 
Let us suppose now parts of space differently colored 
and presented to our eyes. The difference of colors 
will necessarily cause us to observe the boundaries 
or limits which separate two neighboring colors, and, 
consequently, will give us an idea of figure, for we 
conceive of a figure when we conceive a limitation or 
boundary on all sides." 

An appeal to our consciousness, that is, observa- 
tion of what takes place in the exercise of vision, 



38 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

shows that the mind cognizes extension and form by 
means of the eye ; that is, cognizes extended and fig- 
ured objects by means of the eye. 

Some contend that we get the idea of exten- 
sion and figure by means of the sense of touch, 
and that those ideas are, by association, transferred 
to our visual perceptions. So far is this from being 
clear, it is doubtful whether any accurate idea of fig- 
ure could be gained by the sense of touch only. Let 
one be blindfolded, and then let an object different 
from any object previously seen and handled be pre- 
sented to the sense of touch, and he will form a very 
inaccurate idea of its figure. 

Some admit that we can cognize extension by the 
eye, but deny that we can cognize figure, that is, so- 
lidity, length, breadth, and thickness. That we now 
acquire a knowledge of solidity by the eye is, it is 
said, the result of inference from our experience gained 
by the sense of touch. It is admitted that we seem 
to cognize solidity by means of sight, and in reply, it 
is said that we seem to cognize distance by the sense 
of sight, whereas our cognition of distance is an infer- 
ence or judgment. Now we affirm that we do cog- 
nize distance by means of the eye. Those who deny 
this assume that in all our primary perceptions by 
sight all objects appear equally near. This is a mere 
assumption. Memory does not reveal to us our first 
perceptions. The oft-quoted case of Cheselden's pa- 
tient has no bearing upon the point. The imperfect 
cognition by means of the organ before it was in its 



EXTENSION, FIGURE, ETC. 39 

normal state, shows nothing as to the origjiial cl^?io^u 
of the organ. Young children have very inaccura.te 
cognitions of the distance of objects, but they give 
no indications of cognizing all objects as equally near. 

We cognize external objects as external. We 
cognize them as distinct from us, and distant from us. 
The quantity of distance is imperfectly cognized by 
the eye. A process of inference is added to the vis- 
ual perception, and thus our cognitions become more 
and more accurate. 

The state of mind which we call seeing distance, 
is a complex state. We see an object — a tower for 
example. We see it as distant from us. When we 
make the distance an object of attention, and attempt 
to determine the amount of the distance, a process of 
inference takes place. In view of a former analogous 
experience, the mind decides that the object is, say, 
five miles distant. The cognition in regard to the 
exact distance is not a direct cognition. It is an in- 
ference or judgment founded upon the visual appear- 
ance of the object, conjoined with former experience. 
In many instances, this process of inferring is so rapid 
that it escapes our attention. 

It is asked. How, since the image on the retina is 
inverted, do we see objects upright ? The reply is, 
we do see them upright. This we know. Why the 
physical conditions of perception are as they are, we 
do not know. A similar answer may be given to the 
question, why, when there is an image of the object 
in each eye, we see but one object. Some recent dis- 



40 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

coveries in optics reveal in a measure the connection 
between binocular vision and the cognitio» of form. 

A distinction exists between our original and our 
acquired perceptions. The one class are perceptions 
proper, the other inferences. The distinction may 
also be expressed by calling the former direct cogni- 
tions, and the latter indirect cognitions. 

We hear music : we say we hear a hand-organ in 
the street. In truth, we hear the sounds produced by 
the organ. By means of sight or touch, we have cog- 
nized the existence of organs. We have learned that 
a particular instrument is the cause of particular 
sounds. When we cognize those sounds, we seem to 
cognize the instrument. But the mental process is as 
follows. We hear the sound, and infer the presence 
of an organ. The inference is founded on our expe- 
rience. On former occasions, "we have known that 
similar sounds proceeded from an organ. On the 
principle that like causes produce like effects, we infer 
that the sounds which we now hear proceed from an 
organ. That there is an organ in the street is an 
inference from analogy. 

We see a plate of butter, and we say it looks soft. 
But softness and hardness are not originally cognized 
by the eye, but by touch. We have found, from tac- 
tual examination, that butter under certain conditions 
is soft. We have noted the appearance it then pre- 
sented. When we see that appearance, we infer soft- 
ness. We do not see softness, but the signs from 



EXTENSION, FIGURE, ETC. 41 

which we infer it. We must thus learn to distinguish 
between our sense perceptions and our inferences. 
Both are acts of the mind, hut they are not identical 
— do not belong to the same class. 

Are our perceptions copies of external objects? 
Does the perception of a rose resemble a rose ? Is 
there a resemblance between the idea of a rose and 
the material rose ? 

To perceive a rose, to have an idea of a rose, is a 
mental act — an act of a spiritual, invisible, indivisible 
existence. Can there be any resemblance between 
said act and a rose ? 

That such a resemblance exists is sometimes 
assumed. It might be regarded as a harmless error, 
were it not that it may influence one's subsequent 
thinking. An inference may be drawn from the 
assumption. That* inference may form a portion of 
an argument, which must therefore be unsound. It 
may well be doubted whether there can be any such 
thing as harmless error. It is always liable to in- 
fluence our thinking. 

The phrase, mental image or picture, is properly 
used to express a particular state of mind. We 
speak of having a mental picture, conception, or image 
of some edifice we have seen- — of the church we were 
accustomed to frequent in our early days. A moment's 
reflection will show that there can be no resemblance 
between the church, a material object, and the act of 
mind calling it to distinct remembrance. 



42 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

We may, from reading or hearing a description of 
a scene, form a conception, or image, or picture of 
said scene in our minds. Those terms express a cer- 
tain state of mind ; but that state of mind, while it 
has a certain relation to the material objects, has no 
literal resemblance to them. 

It may be asked. Are all mental acts alike ? Is 
the perception of a rose like the perception of a 
stone ? 

The act of perception cannot be distinguished in 
thought from the perception — that is, the perception 
as act cannot be distinguished from the perception as 
knowledge. The only difference we can perceive 
with respect to the acts above mentioned is, the one 
is the perception of a rose, the other of a stone. 

Is it proper to say, " I believe in the existence of 
a material world " ? We have seen that by the or- 
ganism of the senses, we cognize the existence of the 
material world. To cognize a truth immediately, and 
to believe a truth, are different mental acts. We 
believe a friend's statement in regard to something 
he has witnessed: we believe that statement to be 
true, but we do not know it to be true. We know 
that the whole is greater than its i:>ai% and that 
matter exists. Our knowledge of these truths is 
direct, intuitive. 

Belief is founded on testimony or evidence, and is 
elearly distinguishable from intuitive cognition. 



EXTENSION, FIGUKE, ETC. 43 

We may have beliefs in whose truth we have as 
much confidence as we have in our intuitive cogni- 
tions. Still a belief is not an intuitive cognition. As 
our cognition of the existence of matter is intuitive, it 
should not be spoken of as a belief. 



CHAPTER VI. 

PEIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES OF MATTER. 

Matter is that which possesses certain qualities. 
Some of these qualities are intuitively cognized; 
others are the subjects of inference. To the ques- 
tions, What is matter apart from its qualities ? What 
is the essence of matter? we answer, we do not 
know that there is any such thing. 

Some of the qualities of matter are essential to its 
existence as matter. Some qualities are common to 
all matter. There are other qualities which belong 
to some kinds of matter only. 

The division made by most writers, is that of 
primary and secondary. The primary qualities are 
those which are common to all matter. Thus exten- 
sion is a primary quality. 

Secondary qualities are those which belong to 
some kinds of matter. Thus fragrance, heat, sonorous- 
ness, belong to some kinds of matter, but not to all. 

The primary qualities are cognized directly, intui- 
tively. The cognition of them is, in fact, inseparable 
from the cognition of matter — is the cognition of 



PEIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES OF MATTEE. 45 

matter. If we did not cognize matter as extended 
and solid, or having the capability of resisting press- 
ure, we should not cognize it at all. 

The secondary- qualities are cognized indirectly. 
Their existence is inferred from certain effects. You 
see a musical instrument — a yiolin, for example. You 
cognize it as matter having extension and resistance. 
You do not cognize the fact that it, or certain por- 
tions of it, has the quality of producing musical 
sound. The strings are made to vibrate : you have 
a cognition of sound. From observation you con- 
clude that the sound is produced by the vibration 
of the strings: you conclude those strings are pos- 
sessed of a peculiar quality — a quality not |)ossessed 
by all forms of matter. The cognition of this quality 
is not a direct, but an indirect cognition. 

The same remarks luay be made respecting the 
quality of fragrance. 

With respect to flavor or taste, the case is different. 
Apply a sweet body to the organ, and the perception 
of sweetness is immediate — as immediate as the per- 
ception of extension or resistance. We are as certain 
that we cognize sweetness directly as that we cognize 
hardness directly. 

The secondary qualities are affirmed by some to 
have no existence except in the mind. "These are 
not," says Hamilton, "in propriety qualities of bodies 
at all. As apprehended, they are only subjective 
affections, and belong only to bodies in so far as 



46 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

these are supposed to be furnished with the powers 
capable of specifically determining the various parts 
of our nervous apparatus to the particular action, or 
-rather passion, of which they are susceptible ; which 
determined action or passion is the quality of which 
we are immediately cognizant; the external concause 
of that internal effect remaining to the perception 
altogether unknown." The error of regarding the 
secondary qualities as existing only in the mind, has 
arisen from applying the same term to the mental 
affection and the cause of that affection. Heat, as a 
feeling, exists only in the mind ; but heat, as a cause 
of that feeling, is a real quality. Let one touch a 
piece of red-hot iron. He will cognize the fact that 
the iron has heat. He may not be able to tell what 
it consists of, but that does not nullify his cognition 
of its existence. He is not able to tell what extension 
consists of, but that does not nullify his cognition of 
extension. 

Sound, it is said, exists only in the mind. It is 
true that it exists, as a cognition, in the mind, but the 
cause of that cognition is as truly a quality of the 
violin as extension is a quality. 

Color is said to be in the mind only. We see 
only the light, it is said. The color of an object de- 
pends upon the rays of light which it reflects. An 
object which reflects green rays, appears green, and 
one which reflects red rays, appears red. But, why 
does one object reflect green rays and another red? 
Is there not something in the object which reflects 



PEIMAET AND SECONDARY QUALITIES OF MATTER. 47 

green rays — some peculiar arrangement of the par- 
ticles of matter wliicli causes the reflection of those 
rays ? If so, then there is something in the object 
iv^hich determines its color, and color is not a creation 
of the mind. 

Do we not know what color consists in, as well as 
we know what gravity consists in, and what extension 
consists in ? 

Is it, then, proper to speak of some qualities in 
matter as the unknown cause of certain mental affec- 
tions ? May it not just as well be said, that exten- 
sion is the unknown cause of a certain mental state 
which we call the cognition of extension, as to say 
that savor is the unknown cause of a certain mental 
affection v/hich we term the cognition of sweetness ? 
In the one case, we cognize the body as extended ; in 
the other, we cognize it as sapid. 

There has been, it seems to us, an unnecessary 
amount of labor bestowed upon this distinction in 
regard to the qualities of matter. The threefold dis- 
tinction of Hamilton has led to no beneficial results. 
The sum of what can be safely affirmed, seems to be 
this : Some qualities are essential to matter — ^belong 
to all matter. Some qualities belong only to certain 
portions of matter. In regard to these qualities (of 
both kinds), some are cognized directly, and some 
indirectly. Some are cognized more clearly than 
others. In short, our knov/ledge of the qualities of 
matter, like our knowledge of other subjects, is made 
up of intuitive perceptions and inferences. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THEORIES OF PEECEPTIOlSr LOCKE BERKELEY. 

Various opinions have been held on the subject 
of perception. Some of them must be briefly con- 
sidered. 

" It is singular, and at first sight unaccountable, 
how it should ever have been pro|)ounded, that in 
the act of perception, as, for example, in looking at 
a tree, there is an independent image, form, or phan- 
tasm, or idea of the tree, interposed between the tree 
itself and the percipient being. 

'' A man has only to look at any object before him, 
not contenting himself with words, to be satisfied of 
the non-existence of any such image or idea* To one 
of untutored and unperverted mind, the very sugges- 
tion of such a thing would appear absurd. He per- 
ceives the external object, and, let him look as in- 
tently as he may, he can perceive nothing else. 

"Philosophers, however, Avere not content with 
simple facts, and a simple statement of these facts. 

" Amongst other conceits, divers of them a2:)pear to 
have entertained the notion that some intermediate 



THEOBIES OF PERCEPTlOl^j ETC. 49 

image or phantasm is requisite, for the unmeaning rea- 
son, that the immaterial mind cannot come into con- 
tact Vvdth matter, or have any communication with 
it, except, as several of these philosophers suppose, 
through a fine, filmy, shadowy, unsubstantial me- 
dium ; overlooking that it is the business of philoso- 
phy at all times to tate facts as they are, to regard 
what is done, — not to perplex itself with hypotheti- 
cal impossibilities. What mind can do, and what 
matter can do, must be determined by dry facts. 
The best proof of the practicability of a thing, is 
that it takes place. 

" They might have known, by merely opening their 
eyes, that intelligent beings do see material objects, 
and that in this simple act they are utterly uncon- 
scious of any image, species, idea, representation, or 
whatever else a metaphysician might choose to call 
that imaginary entity. 

" Even philosophers who did not consider any inde- 
pendent entity of this kind to exist, held the kindred 
doctrine that there is a purely mental phenomenon, 
whicb is the immediate thing perceived, either con- 
stituting the object itself, or intervening in some in- 
explicable way between the external object and the 
percipient being, so as practically to prevent him 
from getting at the object, or to keep it aloof from 
him ; an hypothesis, in whatever way it may be put 
or expressed, that embodies as rank a fiction as the 
other. 

3 



50 ELEMENTS OF mTELLECTXJAL PHILOSOPHY. 

"It seems to have been only after a thousand 
struggles, that the simple truth was arrived at, which 
is not by any means yet universally received, — the 
truth that the perception of external things through 
the organs of sense is a direct mental act — a phe- 
nomenon of consciousness not susceptible of being 
resolved into any thing else." * 

Locke sometimes uses language which would in 
dicate the doctrine of direct intuitive perception, but 
the theory which determined his thinking was the 
ideal theory. 

"Whatsoever the mind perceives in itself, or is 
the immediate object of perception, thought, or un- 
derstanding, that I call idea."t This implies that 
the object of perception is something in the mind. 
There is a confusion of the object of perception with 
the act of perception. 

" Since extension, figure, number, and motion of 
bodies of an observable bigness, may be observed at 
a distance by the sight, it is evident some singly im- 
perceptible bodies must come from them to the eyes, 
and thereby convey to the brain some motion, which 
produces these ideas which we have of them in 

us."t 

This implies that the external objects are not 

directly perceived by the eye. 

"It is evident that the mind knows not things 

* Bailey. f Essay, Book I., chap, viii., sec. 8. 

X Ibid., sec. 12. 



51 

immediately, but only by tlie intervention of the 
ideas it lias of them. Our knowledge is therefore 
real, only so far as there is a conformity between our 
ideas and the reality of things. But what shall be 
here the criterion? How shall the mind, when it 
perceives nothing but its own ideas, know that they 
agree with things themselves ? This, though it 
seemxS not to want difficulty, yet, I think, there be 
two sorts of ideas, that, we may be assured, agree 
with things." * 

These extracts make it plain that Locke did not 
regard external objects as directly perceived by the 
mind. The direct object of perception v/as some- 
thing intermediate. The mind "perceives nothing 
but its own ideas." He believed that there are ex- 
ternal objects with which they agree — which they 
represent. 

But if the mind perceives nothing but its own 
ideas, how can it know that there are any other 
things ? How can it know that there are external 
things corresponding to these ideas ? By concession, 
these external things are unperceived — unknown. 
The mind can cognize an agreement between two 
known things, but how can it cognize an agreement 
between a known object and an unknown one ? 

Locke admits that there is a difficulty, but 
thinks that " there be two sorts of ideas, that, we 
may be assured, agree with things." 

* Essay, Book lY., chap, iv., sec. 3. 



52 IifLEMEITTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

On Locke's theory of perception, it is plain, we 
can have no knowledge of any thing out of the 
mind. Idealism is the logical consequence of the 
theory. This remark is true with respect to every 
theory of mediate perception. If the object of the 
mind in perception be an idea, image, phantasm, and 
not external objects, then we have no knowledge of 
external^ objects. It may be affirmed that these 
ideas, images, phantasms, represent external objects. 
But of this, the advocates of the theory have no 
proof. They have therefore no ground for believing 
in the existence of an external world. 

While Locke tau2:ht that the ideas, which are the 
objects of perception, represent external realities, 
Berkeley, with greater logical consistency, denied 
the existence of external realities. 

" In common talk," says Berkeley, " the objects 
of our senses are not termed ideas, but things. Call 
them so still, provided you do not attribute to them 
any absolute existence, and I shall never quarrel with 
you for a word." 

Again, he says : " It is an opinion strangely pre- 
vailing amongst men, that houses, mountains, rivers, 
and, in a word, all sensible objects, have an existence 
natural and real, distinct from their being perceived 
by the understanding. But with how great an as- 
surance and acquiescence soever this principle may 
be entertained in this world, yet, whosoever shall 
find in his heart to call it in question, may, if I mis 



53 

take not, perceive it to involve a manifest contradic- 
tion. For wliat are tlie prementioned objects, but 
tlie things we perceive by the sense ; and what do 
we perceive besides our own ideas and sensations ; 
and is it not plainly repugnant that any one of these, 
or any combination of them, should exist unper- 
ceived ? " 

Here the existence of any thing excepting our 
ideas and sensations is distinctly denied. The rea- 
soning — if the term can properly be' applied to a 
mere assumption and shifting of terms — is as' fol- 
lows : 

Jlouses, mountains, and rivers, are the objects 
of our senses ; but the only things we perceive by 
sense are our own ideas and sensations : hence houses, 
mountains, etc., have no existence except in the 
mind. ' 

Houses, mountains, etc., are called ideas, and then 

all the qualities of ideas are ascribed to them. But 

"f 
to call a thing by the name of another thing, does 

not change the nature of the former to that of the 

latter. To call a horse a bird, does not change him 

into a bird. 

It may be asked. Whence come our ideas of 
houses and mountains, if there are no such material 
objects to cause them ? Berkeley would reply, that 
the Author of Nature " imprints them in the senses." 

The followiog remarks from the pen of Bailey 
are deemed accurate ; \ Much as his [Berkeley's] 



54 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

arguments have been extolled, whoever closely ex- 
amines them will find that he does not adduce a sin- 
gle one (arguments in a circle excepted) to prove his 
fundamental position ; but, having assumed it with- 
out proof, he is thenceforward occupied partly in de- 
ducing conclusions from iL, partly in explaining facts 
according to it, partly in contending with objections 
which nothing but his original assumption enables 
him to combat, partly in overcoming doctrines not 
necessarily held in connection with the absolute ex- 
istence of an external world, and partly in attempt- 
ing, by a retrograde process, to confirm the truth of 
the assumed proposition from its own consequences. 

'' That in doing this he has shown great logical 
adroitness and fertility of invention, much metaphysi- 
cal knowledge and acumen, a wide range of thought, 
and a fluent and felicitous style, I most cheerfully 
admit." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THEOKIES or PERCEPTIO]^ — KEID BKOWN^o 

Dr, Thomas Reid has the merit of overthrowing 
the theory of mediate perception — ^that is, the theory 
of perception through the agency of ideas intervening 
and bridging the space between matter and mind. 
Before his time that theory was very generally held. 
It is true that in many authors there may be found 
passages indicating correct views of perception ; still 
the ideal theory influenced the general tone of philo- 
sophical thinking. The isolated passages referred to 
do not lessen the substantial merit of Reid in leading 
the way to more truthful views than had previously 
obtained general currency. 

Reid saw the truth in regard to the perception of 
external objects, but did not see it with entire clear- 
ness. He saw that there was no intermediate object 
between the mind and the object perceived— that we 
have a direct, immediate, intuitive perception of ex- 
ternal objects; but he did not discriminate accurately 
between sensation and perception. He sometimes 
used language adapted to make the impression that 



56 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

he regarded sensation as the instrument of perception. 
He taught that sensation always precedes perception. 
^ He says : '^ The impression made upon the organs, 
, nerves, and brain, is followed by a sensation, and this 
sensation is followed by a perception of the object.'^ 
Again : " The impression made upon the nerves and 
brain is performed behind the scenes, and the mind 
sees nothing of it. But every such impression^ by the 
laws of the drama, is followed by a sensation which is 
the first scene exhibited to the mind, and this scene 
is quickly succeeded by another, which is the percep- 
tion of the object." 

Professor Dugald Stewart understood Reid to 
teach " that the mind is so formed that certain impres- 
sions produced upon our organs of sense by external 
objects, are followed by corresponding sensations, and 
that these sensations (which have no more resem- 
blance to the qualities of matter than the words of 
language have to the things which they denote) are 
followed by a perception of the existence and quali- 
ties of the bodies by which the impressions are 
made." 

" Every different perception," says Reid, " is con- 
joined with a sensation proper to it. The one is the 
sign, the other is the thing signified." 

These expressions would seem to indicate that 
Reid regarded perception as an inference from sensa- 
tion, and not a direct knowledge of the object. But 
he remarks : " We ask no argument for the existence 



57 



of the object, Ibut that we perceive it : perception 
commands our belief upon its own authority, and dis- 
dains to rest its authority upon any reasoning what- 
ever." Exception may be taken to the use of the 
term belief in connection with perception, yet the 
passage shows that he regarded perception as a direct 
knowledge of the object — not a knowledge acquired 
by inference. 

As was stated above, the defect in Reid's view of 
perception was owing to a want of accurate discrimi- 
nation between sensation and perception. The dis- 
tinction stated by Bailey is clear and satisfactory. 
Sensation is " an affection felt to be in'some part of 
the body, whether attended or not by a discernment 
of any thing different from, or external to the sen- 
tient being." Perception is " discerning something 
different from, or external to, the percipient being, 
whether attended or not by a bodily sensation." 

Sensation and perception are not always conjoined. 
We may have sensations without perceptions. Place 
a piece of ice near the body. A radiation of caloric 
from the body — a change in the condition of the 
body — will produce a sensation of cold or chilliness. 
This is in one sense a knowledge ; that is to say, I 
know that I have in my body a sensation of chilli 
ness ; but it is not a perception, i, 6,, a cognition of 
something external. 

After long-continued bodily exertion, there is felt, 
in different parts of the body, a sensation of, fatigue. 
3^' 



58 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

This is not necessarily conjoined with the perception 
of any external object. 

When one has gone without food for an unusual 
period, the condition of the stomach produces the 
sensation of hunger. This sensation is not in any way 
connected with the perception of any thing external. 
These sensations are feelings localized in the body. 
They are mental acts, states, or affections, clearly dis- 
tinguishable from perceptions. 

We may have perceptions without sensations. 
An object of sight is presented— a tree for example. 
The cognition is immediate. If we consult our con- 
sciousness, we shall find nothing but a direct cognition 
of the tree. The conditions of this cognition, the 
rays of light reflected from the object to the eye, the 
picture on the retina, the state of the optic nerve and 
the brain, are not within the sphere of consciousness. 
All that we are conscious of is an immediate percep- 
tion of the tree. When the organ is in a healthy 
state, we are conscious of no feeling localized in the 
organ — ^no sensation. If the organ be diseased, a 
painful sensation may be felt in it, but the sensation 
has no connection with vision — that is, in no way con- 
tributes to it. It may be occasioned by nerves en- 
tirely distinct from the optic nerve. 

Let the keys of a piano be struck : we hear a 
sound. Is it a sensation, that is, a feeling localized in 
the ear, or is it a cognition of sound ? Plainly the 
latter. We cognize a sound. It is a mental act. We 



59 

are conscious of i^e act, "but are not ordinarily con- 
scious of any local affection of the organ. 

In case the ear is diseased, the vibrations of the 
atmosphere, one of the conditions of the mental act 
of hearing, may occasion a painful sensation. Even 
when the organ is in a healthy state, vibrations of 
great intensity, such as those occasioned by the explo- 
sion of a cannon near to one, will occasion a painful 
sensation. 

Some writers have used the term sensation in con- 
nection with hearing, when they should have used 
the term emotion. They have spoken of the agreea- 
ble and disagreeable sensations of hearing, when they 
meant the agreeable or disagreeable emotions conse- 
quent upon the cognition of sounds. Some sounds are 
agreeable, and some disagreeable. An attendant or 
consequent emotion is one thing, a preceding sensation 
is another thing. The two things should not be con- 
founded. 

Perception by the sense of touch is attended by a 
sensation — a feeling localized in the organ. The sen- 
sation is separable in thought from the perception. 
Cognitions by the sense of taste and of smell are also 
attended with sensations. But a large portion of our 
perceptions are neither preceded nor attended by sen- 
sations. If the above remarks are correct, the reader 
will place a just estimate on Sir William Hamilton's 
law, the alleged discovery of which is claimed as one 
of his contributions to philosophy — " the grand law by 



60 ELEMEISTTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

wMcli perception and sensation ara governed by their 
reciprocal relation." This lavf, which Hamilton says 
" has been wholly overlooked by onr psychologists," 
is thus stated : " Perception and sensation, though al- 
ways coexistent, are always in the inverse ratio to 
each other." 

Had Reid distinguished clearly between sensation 
and perception, there would have been no occasion 
for charging him with failing to teach the true doc- 
trine of perception. That he held it substantially, no 
candid reader of his works can doubt. 

Dr. Thomas Brown, whose "Lectures on the 
Philosophy of the Human Mind " furnish frequent 
examples of wonderful acuteness, taught, in regard to 
perception, that when an object is presented to our 
organs of sense, a certain mental state is occasioned, 
and this conscious state of mind is followed by an 
irresistible belief of the existence of the object 
causing said mental state. 

Brown discarded altogether the doctrine of ideas, 
that is, of a terthim quid between the object per- 
ceived and the perceiving mind, but he did not give a 
true account of the process of perception. He says, 
when an object is presented to the organs of sense, a 
mental state follows that presentation, and that state 
is followed by an irresistible belief of the existence 
of the object. But what is that mental state ? When 
a table is placed before me, a mental state is produced. 
What is that mental state ? It is a direct perception 



61, 



of tlie table. As soon as the light falls upon the 
table and is reflected to the eye, the mind sees the 
table. The conscious act or state of mind is a simple 
act or state, and cannot be analyzed into an act fol- 
lowed by an irresistible belief. 

In consequence of his view of perception, Brown 
found great difficulty in determining the origin of our 
idea of externality. An object is presented to the 
senses, and produces a state of mind. All that we 
are conscious of is a state of mind — a subjective af- 
fection. We know that it must have a cause, but 
whether that cause be an external object or not, we 
cannot know, so long as we are destitute of the idea 
of externality. In attempting to account for the ori- 
gin of our ideas of externality, he gives a striking 
specimen of ingenuity, but fails to remove the diffi- 
culty, which is of his own creation. 

It is simply absurd to ask how we get the idea of 
externality in connection with our perception of ex- 
ternal objects. When we cognize an external object, 
we cognize it as external. If we cognize it at all, we 
must cognize it as external to the mind and to the 
bodily organism. No one cognizing an object by one 
of the senses, ever cognized it as a mere modification 
of his own mind. The mind was made to cognize 
external objects. The idea of externality is neces- 
sarily involved in every cognition of matter. 

Brown's doctrine of perception as logically leads 
to idealism, as does the doctrine of perception by 



62 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

means of ideas. If we are conscious of cognizing 
ideas only, then we have no means of knowing that 
there are external objects corresponding to those 
ideas. If, as Brown affirms, we are conscious only of 
a mental state, how can we know that the cause of 
that mental state has a material existence ? Brown 
calls in the aid of an irresistible belief, bu^ conscious- 
ness does not testify to the presence of said belief. 
It testifies to the direct cognition of the object. 



/k ajZcA. y^i 



■t^^-^%'^'t'^'t>^ 



■ CHAPTER IX. 

THEORY OF SIR WILLIAM HAMILTOl^T. 

Sir William Hamilton claims to teach the doctrine 
of direct perception more emphatically than any of 
his predecessors. It is supposed by some that he cor- 
rected the errors of Reid and Brown^ and gave an 
exposition of the philosophy of perception, at once 
convincing and exhaustive. A brief examination of 
his teachings may prove a useful exercise. 

He teaches that the mind has a direct, immediate, 
intuitive perception of external objects. After a con- 
sideration of the various objections that have been 
made to the doctrine of direct perception, he re- 
marks : " We have thus found, by an examination of 
the various grounds on which it has been attempted 
to establish the necessity of rejecting the testimony 
of consciousness to the intuitive perception of the 
external world, that the grounds are,"^ one and all, 
incompetent." 

He would extend the sphere of consciousness, so 
as to include the object perceived as well as the per- 
ceiving act. He insists on the propriety of saying, 



64 ELEMENTS OF USTTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

" I am conscious of the inkstand," instead of saying, 
" I am conscious that I perceive the inkstand." " A 
^ slight consideration," he affirms, " is sufficient to 
reconcile us to the expression, as showing, if we 
hold the doctrine of immediate perception, the ne- 
cessity of not limiting consciousness to our subjec- 
tiye states." Again he says : " The assertion that 
we can be conscious of the act of knowledge 
without being conscious of the object, is virtually 
suicidal." 

The reader may be surprised to learn from Ham- 
ilton, who so strenuously contends for the authority 
of consciousness, that although ''we are conscious of 
the inkstand," we do not see it. To be conscious of 
the inkstand must mean to be conscious that we see 
the inkstand. Tet, according to Hamilton, we do 
not see it. " We perceive, through no sense, augh^"// 
external but what is in immediate relation and in 
immediate contact with its organ ; and that is true, 
which Democritus of old asserted, that all our 
senses are only modifications of touch. Through the 
eye we perceive nothing but the rays of light in rela- 
tion to, and in contact Vvdth, the retina ; what we add 
to this perception must not be taken into account." 
" To say, for example, that we perceive by sight the 
sun or moon, is a false or an elliptical expression. We 
perceive nothing but certain modifications of light in 
immediate relation to our organ of vision ; and so far 
from Dr. Reid being philosophically correct, Avhen he 



THEORY OF SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON". 65 

says that, 'when "ten men look at tlie sun or moon, 
they all see the same indiyidual object/ the truth is 
that each of these persons sees a cliiFerent object, be- 
cause each person sees a different complement of rays in 
relation to his individual organ. In fact, if we look 
alternately with each, we have a different object iil 
our right, and a different object in our left eye. It is 
not by perception, but by a process of reasoning, that 
we connect the objects of sense with existences be- 
yond the sphere of immediate knowledge. It is enough 
that perception affords us the knowledge of the noji- 
ego at the point of sense. To arrogate to it the 
power of immediately informing us of the existence 
of external things, which are only the cause of the 
objects which are immediately perceived, is either 
positively erroneous, or a confusion of language 
arising from an inadequate discrimination of the 
phenomena. Such assumptions tend only to throw 
discredit on the doctrine of intuitive perception ; and 
such assumptions you will find scattered over the 
works both of Reid and Stewart. I would therefore 
establish as a fundamental position of the doctrine 
of immediate perception, the opinion of I)emocritus 
— that all our senses are only modifications of 
touch; in other words, that the external object of 
perception is always in contact with the organs of 
sense." 

Do not the assumptions of Hamilton "tend to 
throw discredit on the doctrine of intuitive percep- 



66 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tion"? What are his assertions iit regard to visible 
objects? We see only modifications of light, and 
difierent persons looking at the sun see different 
objects. Will it be said different rays of light enter 
different eyes ? True, but does that fact prove that 
all do not see the same object? A cannon is fired: 
the undulations or portions of undulations that strike 
upon the tympanums of ten different persons are 
different ; does that prevent their all hearing the 
same cannon? 

The learned author confounds the condition of 
perception with the object of perception. The en- 
trance of rays of light is a condition of perception. 
Every beholder of the sun is conscious of seeing it: 
he is not conscious of seeing certain modifications of 
light. In fact, he knows nothing about light, the 
retina, the optic nerve, till informed by the physiol- 
ogist. 

These assumptions of Hamilton are entirely incon- 
sistent with the doctrine of direct, intuitive perception. 
If we see only rays of light, how do we know there 
is any thing but said rays ? Hamilton stoutly con- 
tends that we must receive the attestations of con- 
sciousness as true. His whole doctrine of intuitive 
perception rests upon the truthfulness of conscious- 
ness. Now, we are as conscious that we see the 
inkstand when it is before us on the table, as we are 
that we feel it when we place our hand upon it. If 
Hamilton's assertion that we do not see the inkstand 



THEORY OF SIR WILLIAM UAMILTON. 67 

but only rays of light, be true, then consciousness is 
deceptive. If we are deceived as to seeing the ink- 
stand, we may be deceived as to feeling the inkstand. 
All ground for certainty is gone. 

Thus it appears that no man has more emphatically 
asserted the truthfulness of consciousness, and no man 
has more emphatically denied it. 

He has made other assertions equally inconsistent 
with the doctrine of intuitive perception. When he 
insists on so direct a cognition that it is proper for 
us to say that we are conscious of the object, conscious 
of the inkstand, we have certainly a right to suppose 
that a real object is perceived. This he does not 
deny — in words at least. He affirms that "we per- 
ceive the material reality." "But what," he asks, 
" is meant by perceiving the material reality ? " We 
give his answer ; but shall be obliged to repeat his 
question, "What is meant?" in respect to several 
of his phrases. " In the first place," he says, in reply 
to the question, " it does not mean that we perceive 
the material reality absolutely and in itself; that is, 
out of relation to our organs or faculties." What is 
meant by "perceiving the material reality absolutely 
and in itself" ? What is meant by the explanatory 
phrase " out of relation to our organs and faculties " ? 

Having told us, in his way, what is not meant by 
perceiving the material reality, he proceeds : " On the 
contrary, the total and real object of perception is the 
external object under relation to our sense and the 



68 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

faculty of cognition." What is meant by "under 
relation to our sense and the faculty of cognition"? 
He continues: "Bat though thus relative to us, the 
object is still no representation, no modification of 
the ego. It is the non-ego^ modified and relative it 
may be, but still the non-ego. I formerly illustrated 
this to you by a supposition. Suppose that the total 
object in perception is 12; and suppose that. the 
external reality contributes 6, the material sense 3, 
and the mind 3~this may enable you to form some 
rude conjecture of the nature of the object of percep- 
tion." The material reality perceived is thus a com- 
pound of matter, sense, and mind ! Consciousness 
says it is matter. 

What modification does the non-ego receive from 
the mind ? Suppose the non-ego to be a house ; what 
modification does it receive at the hands of "the ma- 
terial sense," and " the mind," when perception takes 
place ? 

A house is before me : the light is reflected from 
the house to the eye, and an image of the house is 
formed on the retina. The optic nerve and the brain 
are in their normal state. A cognition takes place. 
The mind cognizes the house. All the facts men- 
tioned as preceding the act of cognition are physio- 
logical conditions of the act. When these take place, 
the simple inexplicable act of cognition takes place. 
If cognizing the house is modifying it, it is so modified. 

Hamilton tells us that the simple cognition is 



THEORY OF SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON". 69 

made up of contributions from three sources, viz. : 
the house, the material sense, and the mind. The 
house contributes, say, one-half; the material struc- 
ture of the eye one-third ; and the mind one-third. 

Consciousness gives us no information of this 
partnership. We are conscious of perceiving the 
house. If this consciousness is erroneous, and the 
object of perception is not the house, but a certain 
threefold combination, then consciousness is not trust- 
worthy, and universal skepticism must be our portion. 

Observe the impropriety of that mode of speaking, 
adopted by many writers, which represents knowledge 
as the joint contribution of mind and object. Mind 
and object are both necessary in order to knowledge, 
but it does not follow that knowledge is a compound 
of mind and object. What is the relation between 
mind and object? The mind knows, the object is 
known. That is the whole of the matter. If it be 
asked, How can the mind know ? the conditions of the 
cognizing act may be stated, but the cognizing act 
cannot be described. 

The following passage contains a doctrine of per- 
ception closely allied to, if not identical with, that held 
by Dr. Thomas Brown, and censured by Hamilton. 
"If it be asked," says Hamilton, "How do we know 
that this object (of perception) is not a mere mode of 
mind, illusively presented to us as a mode of matter? 
then, indeed, we must reply, that we do not in pro- 
priety know that what we are compelled to perceive 



70 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHr. 

as not self— is not a perception of self; and that we 
can only on reflection believe such to be the case, in 
reliance tipon the original necessity of so believing 
imposed on tis by our nature." 

After all, then, our knowledge of external objects 
as separate from the mind, is not a direct cognition, 
but an inevitable belief! 



CHAPTER X. 

EELATIYITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 

Much has "been said by late writers about tlie 
relativity of our knowledge, the tendency of which is 
to weaken the grounds of certainty of knowledge. 
We are told that " we know mind and matter not in 
themselves, but in their accidents and phenomena*' 

Hamilton aiBrms that "all human knowledge," 
consequently all human philosophy, "is only of the 
relative and phenomenal. In this proposition the 
term relative is opposed to the absolute ; and, there- 
fore, in saying that we know only the relative, I vir- 
tually assert that we know nothing absolute — nothing 
existing absolutely, in and for itself, and without 
relation to us and our faculties." Of course we 
cannot know that which has no relation to our facul- 
ties — that which is not an object of knowledge — that 
which is unknowable. The distinction, then, between 
the relative and the absolute, is simply the distinction 
between that which can be known and that which 
cannot be known. It is granted that our knowledge 
is limited. We know but in part. Beyond and con- 



V2 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 

nected with all that is known, there is much that is 
unknown. If the terms relative and absolute were 
intended to express this distinction, thej were not 
happily chosen ; for when we are told our knowledge 
is only relative and phenomenal, there is a tendency 
to regard it as unsubstantial. If the terms were not 
intended to express this distinction, what were they 
intended to express ? What is meant by " existing 
absolutely and of itself, without relation to us and 
our faculties"? How is it known that there are 
objects existing out of relation to our faculties? If 
we are authorized to affirm that there are such ob- 
jects, that affirmation is knov/ledge. Hov*^ came the 
exTsteiice of these unknown and unknowable objects 
to be known ? If an object is without relation to our 
faculties, it cannot be cognized by our faculties, and 
of course its existence cannot be affirmed. 

Hamilton proceeds to illustrate the assertions 
above quoted : " I shall illustrate this by its applica- 
tion. Our knowledge is either of matter or of mind. 
Now, what is matter ? What do we know of mat- 
ter ? Matter, or body, is to us the name either of 
something known or of something unknown. In so 
far as matter is the name of something known, it 
means that which appears to us under the forms of 
extension, solidity, divisibility, figure, motion, rough- 
ness, smoothness, color, heat, cold, etc. ; in short, it 
is a common name for certain series, aggregate, or 
complement of appearances or phenomena manifested 



RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 73 

in coexistence. Put as the plienomena appear only 
in conjunction, we are compelled, by the constitution 
of our nature, to think them conjoined in and by 
something ; and as they are phenomena, we cannot 
think them the phenomena of nothing, but must re- 
gard them as the properties or qualities of something 
that is extended, solid, figured, etc. But this some- 
thing, absolutely and in itself-— ^^ 6., considered apart 
from its phenomena — is to us as zero. It is only in 
its qualities, only in its effects, in its relative or phe- 
nomenal existence, that it is cognizable or conceiv- 
able. It is only by a law of thought that compels us 
to think of something absolute and unknown as the 
basis or condition of the relative and known, that 
something obtains a kind of incomprehensible reality 
to us. Now, that which manifests its qualities — in 
other words, that in which the appearing causes in- 
here, that to which they belong — is called, then, sub- 
ject^ or substance^ or substratum. To this subject of 
the phenomena of extension, solidity, etc., the term 
matter^ or material substance^ is commonly given ; and 
therefore, as contradistinguished from these qualities, 
it is the name of something unknown and incon- 
ceivable." 

The same doctrine in regard to our knowledge of 
matter was taught by Professor Dugald Stewart. 
" It is not matter or body which I perceive by my 
senses, but only extension, color, figure, and certain 
other qualities which the constitution of my nature 
4 



74 ELEMENTS OF lOTTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

leads me to refer to something which is extended, 
figured, colored." 

In opposition to these high authorities, it may be 
safely affirmed that it is not true that we perceive 
extension, figure, color, etc., and infer the existence 
of something in which they inhere. We intuitively 
cognize matter or body as extended, figured, colored, 
etc. If we do not cognize matter — body — directly, 
we cognize nothing directly. If we do not know 
what matter is, we do not know what any thing is. 
Extension, and color, and other facts in relation to 
matter, when considered apart from body, are mere 
abstractions ; and abstractions are not known enti- 
ties inhering in an unknown something. We can 
consider extension, solidity, color, etc., abstractly, 
but that is not cognizing them as entities belonging 
to an unknown substratum. We cognize body as 
extended, divisible, colored, etc. If the use of ab- 
stract terms had been avoided in relation to body, 
the doctrine of a substratum^ and of a relative knowl- 
edge of matter, would not have been known. It is 
the offspring of scholastic abstraction. 

The position I have taken is supported by one of 
the most sober and accurate thinkers of the day. " I 
can see," says McCosh, " no evidence whatever for the 
existence of any such thing as a substratum^ lying in 
or beyond, or standing under all that comes under our 
immediate knowledge. There is no topic on which 
there has been a greater amount of unintelligible Ian- 



RELATIVITY OF KITOWLEDGE. 75 

guage employed than on this. We know, it is said, 
only qualities ; but we are constrained by reason, or 
by common sense, to believe in a something in which 
they inhere. Or, qualities, it is said, fall under sense, 
while substance is known by reason. Others, pro- 
ceeding on these admissions, maintain that, qualities 
alone being known, we may doubt whether there is 
such a thing as substance, and may certainly affirm 
that we can never know it. Now, in opposition to 
all this style of thinking and of writing, which has 
prevailed to so great an extent since the days of 
Locke, I maintain that we never know qualities with- 
out also knowing substance. Qualities, as qualities, 
distinct from substances, are as much unknown to us 
as substance distinct from qualities." 

Again : " It is very common to say that sub 
stance is a thing behind the qualities, or underneath 
them, acting as a substratum, basis, ground, or sup- 
port. All such language is in its very nature meta- 
phorical ; the analogy is of the most distant kind, 
and may have a misleading character. The sub- 
stance is the very thing itself considered in a certain 
aspect, and the qualities are its action or manifesta- 
tion. Again, it is frequently said that qualities are 
known, whereas substance cannot be known, or, if 
known, known only by some deeper or more tran- 
scendental principle of the mind. Now, I hold that 
we never know quality except as the quality of a 
substance, and that we know both equally in one un- 



76 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

divided act. This is a somewhat less mystical and 
mysterious account than that commonly given ty 
metaphysicians, but is, as it appears to me, in strict 
accordance with the revelations of consciousness." 

We are told by some writers, that the essence of 
matter and mind is unknown. The author above 
quoted says of essence : '' It is a very mystical word, 
and a whole aggregate of foolish speculations has 
clustered around it." " We are not warranted to 
maintain that there must be something lying further 
in than the qualities we know, and that this some- 
thing is entitled to be regarded as the essence of the 
object. We have no ground whatever for believing 
that there must be, or that there is, something more 
internal or central than the substance and quality 
which we know. True, there are probably occult 
qualities even in those objects with which we are 
most intimately acquainted ; but we are not there- 
fore warranted to conclude, that what is concealed 
must differ in nature or in kind from Avhat is re- 
vealed, or that it is in any way more necessary to the 
existence or the continuance of the object. I have a 
shrewd suspicion that there is a vast amount of un- 
meaning talk in the language which is employed on 
this special subject by metaphysicians, who would 
see something which the vulgar cannot discern, 
whereas they should be contented with pointing to 
what all men perceive. It is quite conceivable, and 
perfectly probable, that though we should know all 



RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 77 

about any given terrestrial or material object, we 
should, after all, not fall in with any thing more 
mysterious or deep than those wonders which come 
every day under our notice in the world without, and 
the world within us." 

The following are the views of this author in 
regard to existence in itself: "I cannot give my 
adhesion to the opinion of those who speak so 
strongly of man being incapacitated to know Being. 
I have already intimated my dissent from that Kant- 
ian doctrine, that we do not know things, but ap- 
pearances ; and even from the theory of those Scot- 
tish metaphysicians who affirm that we do not know 
things, but qualities. What we know, is the thing 
manifesting itself to us — is the thing exercising par- 
ticular qualities. But then it is confidently asserted 
that we do not know the ' thing in itself.' The lan- 
guage, I rather think, is unmeaning ; but if it has a 
meaning, it is incorrect. I do not believe that there 
is any such thing in existence as Being in itself, or 
that man can even so much as imagine it ; and if 
this be so, it is clear that we cannot know it, and 
desirable that we should not suppose that we know 
it. Of this I am sure, that those Neo-Platonists who 
professed to be able to rise to the discovery of Being 
in itself (which could only be the abstract idea of 
Being), and to be employed in gazing on it, had mis- 
erably bare and most unprofitable matter of medita- 
tion whether for intellectual, or moral, or religious 



78 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ends. But if any mean to deny that we can know 
Being as it is, I maintain in opposition to them, and 
I appeal to consciousness to confirm me, when I say, 
that we immediately know Being in every act of 
cognition. But then we are told that we cannot 
know the mystery of Being. I am under a strong 
impression that speculators have attached a much 
greater amount of mystery to this simple subject 
than really belongs to it. Of this I am sure, that 
much of the obscurity Avhich has collected around it 
has sprung from the confused discussions of meta- 
physicians, who have labored to explain what needs 
no explanation to our intelligence, or to get a basis 
on which to build what stands securely on its own 
foundation. I do indeed most fully admit, that there 
may be much about Being which we do not know ; 
much about Being generally, much about every indi- 
vidual Being, unknown to us, and unknowable to us 
in this world. Still, I do affirm that we know so 
much of Being, and that any further knowledge con- 
veyed to us woiild not set aside our present knowl- 
edge, but would simply enlarge it." ^' 

The following remarks in regard to the phrase, 
" knowing things in themselves," are by Bailey : 

"It is worth while to advert more particularly 
to the proposition often reiterated by Kant, that we 
cannot know things in themselves — a proposition ex- 
tensively accepted by philosophers. 

* McCosVs '* Intuitions of the Mind," p. 163. 



KELATIYITY OF KISTOWLEDGE. 79 

" This is, in my view, a perfectly unmeaning as- 
sertion. We cannot form the slightest conception of 
knowing external things, except as we do know 
them, i. e., through the organs of sense. Do you 
demur at this ? Then he so good as to tell me the 
precise signification of knowing things in them- 
selves ; give me a specimen of that sort of knowl- 
edge which we have not ; and point out how you 
have gained so envious a piece of transcendental in- 
formation. 

" No one, manifestly, is entitled to deny that our 
knowledge is of things in themselves, unless he not 
only possesses the sort of knowledge which he denies 
to others, and has found, in comparison, that we — 
the rest of the human race — have only a knowledge 
of things as they are not in themselves, but actually 
produces it for our examination. Till that is done, 
assertions ahout knowing things in themselves must 
be regarded as utterly without meaning," 



CHAPTER XL 

HEMAEKS 02T THE NATURE OF* PERCEPTION. 

It has not been my design to give an historical 
account of the various theories of perception. I 
have noticed some errors, for the purpose of enabling 
the student to get a clearer view of the truth. On 
this, as on many other subjects, the simple truth has 
been overlooked, and almost every conceivable form 
of error has been adopted, and exploded. The true 
doctrine of perception is very simple, and has always 
been held by all except philosophers. It is some- 
times asked, Can the existence of an external world 
be proved ? The reply is. It is an object of direct 
cognition, and hence is not susceptible of proof or 
disproof. " For, let us pause a moment, and reflect 
what constitutes proof — what proof is. It is neither 
more nor less than some fact which causes us, or 
which is adduced for the purpose of causing us, to 
discern or to believe some other fact. 

" Now, a fact must be either external or internal, 
material or mental, relating to the world without or 
the world within. But an external fact cannot be 



REMARKS ON THE KATURIJ OF PERCEPTION. 81 

adduced in proof that there are such things as exter- 
nal objects ; for that would be alleging as evidence 
the very truth to be proved. IsTor can it be adduced 
in disproof; for that would be affirming the positive 
existence of a thing in order to disprove its exist- 
ence. 

" But if an external fact cannot, in this case, be 
brought forward in proof or disproof, it is equally 
plain that a purely mental or internal fact cannot be 
adduced for either purpose. 

" The only mental or internal fact which can be 
mentioned as at .all relating to the subject, is, that 
we perceive external objects : but this cannot, of 
course, be alleged in proof of itself, or of its own 
truth ; nor can it be brought, without egregious ab- 
sur^^, in disproof of itself. 

" That there are external objects perceived by us, 
is, therefore, a primary fact, which admits neither of 
being proved nor disproved ; and it is amazing that 
philosophers of great depth and power have attempt- 
ed to .do either." * 

The following remarks by the author above quo- 
ted are worthy of attention : 

" When we perceive an object, we have not any 
consciousness of the conditions of the nerves and 
brain concerned in the resulting act of perception, 
nor of the motions of any inorganic medium between 
the object and our organ : we are conscious of per- 

* Bailey 

. 4* . - 



82 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ceiving the external object, and nothing else. In 
seeing, we are not conscious of the retina, nor of the 
rays of light impinging upon it, nor of the picture 
there delineated. In hearing, we are not conscious 
of the drum of the ear, nor of the pulses of the air 
by which it is struck, nor, in either case, of any com- 
munication between those parts and the brain. 

"As we are unconscious of the physical process, so 
what we are conscious of perceiving is not at all af- 
fected by our being able or unable to trace that pro- 
cess of which perception is the result. In other 
words, our perception of external objects is not alter- 
able by any insight or want of insight into its physi- 
cal causes. What is designated by the words ' seeing 
an object,' is the same mental state in the child, the 
savage, the philosopher, and as a simple modification 
of consciousness neither wants nor admits of any 
analysis or explanation. Although the physical 
events leading to it may be minutely investigated, it 
cannot itself be resolved into any mental state or 
states. You may trace the course of light from the 
object to the organ, you may follow its refractions by 
the lens of the eye, you may detect the picture on 
the retina, you may explore the connection of the 
optic nerve with the brain ; but you do not, by all 
these discoveries, valuable as fhey are, alter in the 
slightest degree the resulting state of consciousness 
denominated seeing the object. Although they are 
facts in the physical process absolutely necessary to 



EEMAKKS OK THE NATUEE OF PEKCEPTION. 83 

the result, a knowledge of them does not in the least 
modify the consequent perception. Hence it follows 
that no extent of investigation, no discovery in sci- 
ence, can ever change the character of our acquaint- 
ance with external objects. If we could push our in- 
sight of nature to the utmost imaginable extreme, if 
we could ascertain the shape and pursue the move- 
ments of every particle of matter in the world around 
us, we should still have only the same hind of knowl- 
edge, although highly exalted in degree, which we 
have now; we should still be acquainted with the 
material universe only through our sensitive organs. 
The telescope and the microscope, w^hile they extend 
the reach of our senses, do not in the slightest degree 
alter the nature of our perceptions. And further, 
all the various steps in the physical process through 
which we become cognizant of any external object 
are external objects themselves, and are perceived in 
the same way as the rest." 



CHAPTER XII. 

COGlSriTION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS — PEESOKALITY — 
IDENTITY — CEASELESS ACTIYITT — CONSCIOUSNESS. 

We have seen that the mind can cognize the ex- 
istence and qualities of material objects. But mate- 
rial objects are not the sole objects of knowledge. 
We do not acquire all our knowledge through the 
agency of the senses. 

The mind can cogniz® its own existence and oper- 
ations. If it be asked, How can the mind be at the 
same time both subject and object of knowledge ? we 
can only reply, such is the fact. Our knowledge of a 
fact is not destroyed by our ignorance of the manner 
in which the fact takes place. 

We have a direct cognition of our mental opera- 
tions. We do not, it is true, see them by the eye, or 
hear them by the ear, but we have a direct cognition 
of them. 

We have also a direct cognition of our existence. 
Whenever the mind cognizes the existence of an ob- 
ject, it cognizes its own existence. In the con- 
sciousness of cognizing the object is involved the 



COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 85 

consciousness of cognizing its own existence. In 
every mental act there is a direct cognition of the 
existence of the mind. Some writers aiBrm that we 
are conscious only of our mental acts or states, and 
that the existence of the mind is an inference — a ne- 
cessary inference, indeed, but still an inference — from 
those mental acts or states. Thus I am conscious of 
an act, therefore there must be an agent. 

Professor Stewart, one of the few men who have 
not been overrated by their admirers, says : " We are 
not immediately conscious of its (the mind's) exist- 
ence, but we are conscious of sensation, thought, and 
volition, operations which imply the existence of 
something which feels, thinks, and wills." 

ISTo doubt the existence of thought implies a 
thinker, just as the existence of a watch implies a 
maker. In the latter case, the inference is separable 
in thought from the fact. But not so in regard to 
the thinker. The cognition of the existence of the 
thinker is contemporaneous with and inseparable 
from the conscious thought. The consciousness of 
the existence of the mind operating is an integral 
part of the conscious act. The perceiving agent and 
the thing perceived are embraced in the same act of 
consciousness. 

Professor Mansel teaches the doctrine of a direct 
^cognition. " Is it not," he says, " a flat contradiction 
to maintain that I am not immediately conscious of 
myself, but only of my sensations or volitions ? Who 



86 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

then is this Zthat is conscious, and how can Zbe con- 
scious of such states as mine ? In this case it would 
surely be far more accurate to say, not that I am con- 
scious of my sensations, but that the sensation is 
conscious of itself; but thus worded, the glaring ab- 
surdity of the theory would carry with it its own ref- 
utation." " The one presented substance^ the source 
from which our data for thinking on the subject are 
originally drawn, is myself. Whatever may be the 
variety of the phenomena of consciousness, sensations 
by this or that organ, ♦volitions, thoughts, imagina- 
tions, of all we are immediately conscious as affec- 
tions of one and the same self. It is not by any 
afterthought of reflection that I combine together 
sight, hearing, thought, and volition, into a factitious 
unity or compounded whole ; in each case I am im- 
mediately conscious of myself seeing and hearing, 
willing and thinking. This self-personality, like all 
other simple apprehensions, is indefinable, but it is 
so because it is superior to definition. It can be ana- 
lyzed into no simple element, for it is itself the sim- 
plest of all ; it can be made no clearer by description 
or comparison, for it is revealed to us in all the clear- 
ness of an original intuition, of which description and 
comparison can furnish only faint and partial resem- 
blances." 

We cognize the mind as existing as a person, not 
as a thing. To be conscious of our existence, is to be 
conscious of our existence as persons. Some would 



COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 87 

ap]3ear to find difficulty in determining in what per- 
sonality consists, just as they find difficulty in deter- 
mining in what truth consists and in what existence 
consists. To inquire in what our personality consists, 
is to inquire in what we consist. An inanimate thing 
has certain qualities, that is, there are certain things 
or facts true concerning it. The same is true of a 
brute and of a person. We can inquire what things 
are true of each, and can thus learn what things are 
peculiar to each. This covers the whole ground of 
inquiry open to us. The main fact characteristic of a 
person as distinguished from a brute is, that a person 
has the power of cognizing duty, and of acting freely 
in relation to it. 

To cognize the mind as a person, is to Qognize it 
as one — as having unity. We are conscious of nu- 
merous operations, but we are conscious of them as 
the operations of one operator. The question. What 
is one? in what does unity consist? cannot be an- 
swered. The mind is capable of knowing many 
things which it cannot describe or explain. Every 
simple elementary idea, every intuition, belongs to 
this class. It is scarcely necessary to observe that 
none of thes-e things need to be described or explained. 

It is said by some, that, while we cognize the 
existence and operations of the mind, we do not 
cognize its nature. The nature of an object is not 
something different from the object, as many seem 
to imagine. Suppose an object possesses four prop- 



88 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

erties ; that is, there are four things cognizable, 
true, concerning it. When we have cognized those 
four things, is there still something different from 
them remaining unknown, viz., its nature ? The 
questions, What is a thing, and what is its nature ? 
are identical. A recognition of this truth would 
have saved many discussions. 

When the question is asked respecting a thing. 
What is it ? the answer states facts concerning it. To 
tell what a thing is fully, is to state all facts belong- 
ing to it; that is, everything that is true concern- 
ing it — all its properties or qualities. If it be a 
compound object, its constituent elements as well as 
its qualities are stated. If it be a simple object, its 
qualities are stated. If, when the question. What is a 
thing ? has thus been answered, the question is still 
asked, What is its nature ? the answer will consist of 
a statement of its most prominent characteristics or 
qualities, but said characteristics or qualities will be 
found among the facts stated in answer to the ques- 
tion. What is it ? 

The mind continues to be the same mind amid 
all changes of its operations and conditions, and all 
changes of the body. The conscious operations of 
to-day may differ widely from those of yesterday ; but 
I am as certain that I am the same person that I was 
yesterday, as I am that I exist to-day. 

The doctrine of personal identity requires no 
proof. It is intuitively perceived. Why, then, it 



COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 89 

may be asked, have there been discussions and dis- 
putes about it ? Disputes imply difficulties. 

Difficulties always arise when men try to prove 
self-evident truths, or to answer questions which are 
unanswerable. Locke attempted to answer the ques- 
tion, "In what does our identity consist?" and, of 
course, fell into confusion of thought. Unable to 
answer the question, he unwittingly answered in its 
stead, ".On what is our cognition of identity con- 
ditioned ? " 

The cognition of identity is conditioned on an act 
of remembrance. If Ave could not remember any 
past act, we could have no idea of personal identity. 
Our knowledge would be confined to our present 
existence and present acts. When we remember a 
mental act, we remember it ais our act. The idea of 
identity is involved in every act of remembrance. 
Identity does not depend upon memory, but memory 
is the necessary condition of cognizing it. Our cog- 
nition of personal identity is thus an intuition con- 
ditioned on an act of remembrance. 

Is the mind always active? Are its operations 
ceaseless ? We know from experience that it is 
always active during our waking hours. Its action 
is sometimes sluggish and sometimes rapid, but it 
always acts — always exists in some active state. Is 
it always active during sleep ? Sleep seems to be a 
bodily affection solely. It consists in the temporary 
inability of the organs of sense to perform their func- 



90 ELEMENTS OF IISTTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tions. We know that the mind is active up to the 
time when sleep takes place. We know that we often 
dream ; that is, we remember operations that took 
place when we were asleep. We know that we dream 
more when our sleep is broken than when it is sound. J 
We know that the mind is active as soon as sleep is 
removed. We sometimes have dreams, that is, mental 
operations take place during sleep, which we do not 
remember; for we are observed to speak in sleep, and 
do not remember it when we awake. The probability 
is that the mind in its normal state is always active. 

Is the mind always conscious of its operations? or 
can it perform unconscious processes? Those who 
affirm that the mind can perform acts of which it is 
unconscious, state, as example, the case of the striking 
of a clock when one is reading. He does not hear it, 
he says. Tou must have. heard it, says his friend, for 
it has just struck. I was not conscious of it. Was 
it a case of unconscious hearing ? or did he hear it, 
but, in consequence of paying no attention to it, 
forget it ? 

Often a man has been told that he has performed 
a certain act. He affirms, in all honesty, that he has 
not performed it. Some time afterwards he remem- 
bers the act. But for that accidental remembrance, 
the act might be quoted as an example of unconscious 
mental operation. 

A person is reading aloud. His attention wan- 
ders. He turns the leaf, but is perfectly ignorant of 



COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 91 

the ideas expressed on the pages read. His mind has 
been occupied by some other topic. He must have 
cognized the letters and words, and performed acts 
of will causing utterance. Were those acts micon- 
^sciously performed, or were they consciously per- 
formed, but immediately forgotten in consequence of 
the lack of attention ? Some degree of attention, we 
know, is necessary, in order that we may remember. 

A skilful musician performs a piece of music on 
the piano. Is there a volition connected with every 
movement of the fingers ? When he first began to 
play, he was conscious of a distinct volition in con- 
nection with every movement. When a high degree 
of skill has been attained, he is not conscious of any 
such volition. He is conscious only of a general pur- 
pose to perform the piece. Do the volitions take 
place unconsciously ? Reid says, the action of the 
fingers in this case is mechanical — an illustration of 
what he calls a mechanical habit. An objection to 
Reid's view is found in the fact, that if a false note is 
struck, it is instantly perceived and corrected. This 
would indicate attention, though the person may not 
be conscious of bestowing it. 

Stewart says there is conscious volition antecedent 
to each movement. He says: "I cannot help thinking 
it more philosophical to suppose that those actions 
which are originally voluntary always continue so, 
although in the case of bperations which ua^o beome 
habitual in consequence of long practice, w<^ m^> not 



92 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

be able to recollect every different volition. Thus, in 
the case of a performer on the harpsichord, I appre- 
hend that there is an act of the will preceding every 
motion of the fingers, although he may not be able to 
recollect these volitions afterwards, and although he^, 
may, during the time of his performance, be employed 
in carrying on a separate train of thought. For it 
must be remarked, that the most rapid performer can, 
when he pleases, play so slowly as to be able to attend 
to and to recollect every separate act of his will in 
the various movements of his fingers, and he can 
gradually accelerate the rate of his execution till he 
is unable to recollect these acts. , Now, in this in- 
stance, one of two suppositions must be made. The 
one is, that the operations in the two cases are carried 
on in precisely the same manner, and differ only in 
the degree of rapidity ; and the other, that when this 
rapidity exceeds a certain rate, the operation is taken 
entirely out of our hands, and is carried on by some 
unknown power, of the nature of which we are as 
ignorant as we are of the cause of the circulation of 
the blood, or of the motion of the intestines. The last 
supposition seems to me to be somewhat similar to 
that of a man who should maintain, that although a 
body projected with a moderate velocity is seen to 
pass through all the intermediate spaces in moving 
from one place to another, yet we are not entitled 
to conclude that this happens when the body moves 
60 quickly as to become invisible to the eye. 



4i> 
COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 93 

" The former supposition is supported by the an- 
alogy of many other facts in our constitution. An 
expert accountant, for example, can sum up, almost 
at a single glance of his eye, a long column of figures. 
He can tell the sum with unerring certainty, while, 
at the same time, he is unable to recollect any one 
of the figures of which that sum is composed ; and 
yet nobody doubts that each one of these figures has 
passed through his mind, or supposes that when the 
rapidity of the process becomes so great that he is 
unable to recollect the various steps, he obtains the 
result by a sort of inspiration." 

Sir William Hamilton advocates the doctrine of 
unconscious mental agency. He asks : "Are there, in 
ordinary, mental modifications, i, 6., mental activities 
and passivities, of which we are unconscious, but 
which manifest their existence by effects of which we 
are conscious ? " 

That there are mental modifications beyond the 
sphere of consciousness, is doubtless true ; our habits 
and dispositions are examples of such modifications ; 
but are there such modifications as may properly be 
termed activities beyond the sphere of consciousness ? 
Are there any unconscious mental activities ? 

" Let us take our first example," says Hamilton, 
" from perception — the perception of external ob- 
jects — and in that faculty let us commence with the 
sense of sight. Now, you either already know, or 
can at once be informed, what it is that has obtained 



04 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPnY. 

the name of the Minwium Visibile, You are, of 
course, aware in general, that vision is the result of 
the rays of light reflected from the surface of objects 
to the eye ; a greater number of rays is reflected 
from a larger surface : if the superficial extent of an 
object, and, consequently, the number of rays which 
it reflects, be diminished beyond a certain limit, the 
object becomes invisible ; and the minimum visibile 
is the smallest expanse which can be seen — which 
can consciously afiect us — which we can be conscious 
of seeing. This being understood, it is plain that if 
we divide the minimum visibile into two parts, nei- 
ther half can, by itself, be an object of vision, or 
visual consciousness. They are, severally and apart, 
to consciousness as zero. But it is evident that each 
half must, by itself, have produced in us a certain 
modification, real, though unperceived ; for as the 
perceived whole is nothing but the union of the un- 
perceived halves, so the perception — the perceived 
affection itself of which we are conscious — is only 
the sum of two modifications, each of which sev- 
erally eludes our consciousness." 

The above does not prove that we can perform 
unconscious acts. There is, on the part of the au- 
thor, a failure to distinguish between a material or 
physiological condition of perception and the mental 
act of perception. The conscious perception of the 
minimum visibile is not made up of two unconscious 
perceptions. We may admit that each half of the 



COGlSriTION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 95 

expanse has produced a certain modification of the 
organism of sense ; but a modification of tlie organ- 
Ism of sense is one thing, and the modification of a 
mental act is another. The two must not be con- 
founded. Assume that the modification is a mental 
act, and you have an example of an unconscious men- 
tal act ; but the modification is not a mental act, but 
the condition of a mental act. 

The whole expanse perceived is the union of the 
two halves ; but it does not follow that" the percep- 
tion of the whole, considered as a mental act, is made 
up of two half perceptions considered as ^mental acts. 
His remarks are tantamount to this. The minimum 
visibile produces a perception ; therefore half of it 
must produce half a perception : but we are not 
conscious of the half perception; therefore we have 
unconscious perceptions. 

Suppose a pair of scales, with an ounce weight in 
one of the scales. Put another ounce weight in the 
other scale, and it will bring that side down to a level 
with the other. No one would say that half an ounce 
will bring it down halfway. An ounce is the small- 
est weight that will bring down the scale, and so the 
minimum visibile is the smallest expanse that will 
produce perception. Each half of the minimum visi- 
bile produces a modification of the organ of sense, on 
which the mental act is conditioned. 

Again he says : " When we look at a distant for- 
est, we perceive a certain expanse of green. Of this, 



96 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

as an affection of our organism, we are clearly and 
distinctly conscious. Now, the expanse of which we 
are conscious is evidently made up of parts of which 
we are not conscious. No leaf, perhaps no tree, may 
be separately visible. But the greenness of the for- 
est is made up of the greenness of the leaves ; that 
is, the total impression of which we are conscious is 
made up of an infinitude of small impressions of 
which we are not conscious." 

Here the impressions upon the organs of sense, 
which are among the conditions of perception, are 
confounded with the mental act of perception. We 
are conscious of perceiving the outline and color of 
the forest. Whatever impressions were made upon 
the organs of sense, whatever rays of light were re- 
flected from whatever number of leaves, are the con- 
ditions of perception, and not the mental act of per- 
ception. Those conditions are not within the sphere 
of consciousness ; they are modifications of the mate- 
rial organs. One is not authorized to say, " Modifi- 
cations of the material organs may take place with- 
out our being conscious of them ; therefore mental 
acts may take place without our being conscious of 
them." 

" Take another example," says Hamilton, '' from 
the sense of hearing. In this sense there is, in like 
manner, a Minimum Audibile ; that is, a sound the 
least that can come into perception and conscious- 
ness. But this minimum audibile is made up of 



COGKITIOIS- OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 97 

parts whicli severally affect tlie sense, but of which 
afFections, separately, we are not conscious, though 
of their joint result we are. We must, therefore, 
here likewise admit the reality of modifications be- 
yond the sphere of consciousness. Take a special 
example. When we hear the distant murmur of the 
sea, what are the constituents of the total perception 
of which we are conscious ? This murmur is a sum 
made up of parts, and the sum would be as zero if 
the parts did not count as something. The noise of 
the sea is a complement of the noise of its several 
waves ; and if the noise of each wave made no im- 
pression on our sense, the noise of the sea, as the 
result of these impressions, could not be realized. 
But the noise of each several wave, at the distance 
we suppose, is inaudible ; we must, however, admit 
that they produce a certain modification, beyond con- 
sciousness, on the recipient subject'; for this is neces- 
sarily involved in the reality of their result." 

One wave is inaudible, but a hundred waves are 
audible. Therefore the audible is made up of one 
hundred inaudibles ; the conscious mental act is made 
up of one hundred unconscious mental modifications. 
If by " modifications on the recipient subject " 
he does not mean mental modifications, then the 
point for which he is contending, viz., unconscious 
mental operations, is not reached. He confounds 
here, as above, impressions on the organism of 



98 ELEMEN^TS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

sense — conditions of perception — with the act of per- 
ception. 

The vibrations caused by one wave fail to affect 
the ear so as to produce a cognition of sound ; the 
vibration of one hundred waves do so affect the ear 
as to produce a cognition of sound. This is a fair 
statement of the facts of the case. It furnishes no 
proof of unconscious mental agency. 

The fact that the mind may possess latent knowl- 
edge, does not prove that it can perform unconscious 
mental acts. The condition of the mind, as distin- 
guished from acts of the mind, is, of course, beyond 
the sphere of consciousness. A habit is a condition 
of the mind which is manifested by effects — conscious 
acts. A condition of mind may be termed a modifi- 
cation of mind, but it cannot properly be termed a 
mental agency. Hamilton does not use the term 
"unconscious mental operation;" but if he is not 
arguing in behalf of the proposition that such oper- 
ations may take place, he is arguing for that which 
no one ever disputed. 

The case of the somnambulist does not furnish an 
example of unconscious mental action. He gives 
abundant proof, when in that state, that he is con- 
scious of his actions — that he knows what he is 
about. When he is awake, he has no remembrance 
of what took place in his sleep. To forget and to be 
unconscious, are not identical. 



COGNITION OF MENTAL OPERATIONS, ETC. 99 

Cases of disordered mental action seem to furnish 
examples of unconscious mental action. Admitting 
that unconscious mental action does take place in 
cases of disease, the question still remains, Can the 
mind, when it is in its normal state, perform opera- 
tions of which it is unconscious ? 



CHAPTER XIII. 

COGl^ITIOK OF SPACE, 

There is a difference between knowing what a 
thing is, and telling what it is. Our inability to de- 
fine or describe a thing does not authorize us to deny 
its existence. Every one knows there is such a thing 
as truth, ^. 6., true propositions ; but no one can tell 
what truth is. If the question be asked, In what 
does truth consist ? no answer can be given. There is 
no such thing as truth apart from true propositions ; 
as there is no such thing as life apart from living 
things. When it is said we cannot cognize being in 
itself, if by being in itself is meant existence apart 
from things existing, the assertion is true, for there 
is no such thing. That which is not, we cannot 
cognize. 

Of a provable proposition the question may be 
asked. In what does its truth consist — /. 6., on what 
proof does it rest ? But if the question be asked 
with respect to a self-evident proposition, such as that 
the whole is greater than its part, no answer can be 



COGNITIOK OF SPACE. 101 

given. You may say it consists in being true, but 
that is only an awkward re-affirmance. 

We cannot tell what an act of perception is. Do 
you say it is a mental act ? What kind of a mental act ? 
An act of perceiving. What kind of mental act is an 
act of perceiving ? To this question we can give no 
answer. If asked in what it consists, we can only an- 
swer, It consists in perceiving. We are not, then, to 
call in question the reality of a thing, merely because 
we are not able to tell what it is, or in what it consists. 

We have seen that our cognition of identity is 
not a remembrance, but an intuition conditioned 
upon a remembrance. An intuitive cognition may 
thus be conditioned on a preceding act of mind. 
Such a cognition is distinguishable from an inference 
properly so called. 

We can cognize space. The cognition of space is 
intuitive, though it is conditioned on the cognition of 
body. If we had no knowledge of body, it does not 
appear that we should have any knowledge of space. 

When we cognize an object as existing, we cog- 
nize it as existing in space. We are as conscious 
that we cognize it in space, as we are that we cog- 
nize it at all. The two cognitions are inseparable. 
Space, then, exists independently of the mind which 
cognizes it. The tree which we cognize as existing 
in space, exists when it is not perceived. We have 
the same ground for asserting that space exists when 
it is not perceived, as we have for asserting that the 



102 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tree exists when it is not perceived. Consciousness 
does not affirm that the mind creates space : it affirms 
that the mind cognizes it. It is not, then, a creation 
of the mind, a subjective state, as is held by Kant, 
Hamilton, Whewell, and others. 

"According to Kant," says McCosh, "space and 
time are forms given by the mind to the phenomena 
which are presented through the senses, and are not 
to be considered as having any thing more than a 
subjective existence. It is one of the most fatal 
heresies — ^that is, dogmas opposed to the revelations 
of consciousness — ever introduced into philosophy, 
and it lies at the basis of all the aberrations in the 
school of speculation which followed. For those 
who were taught that the mind could create space 
and time, soon learned to suppose that the mind 
could also create the objects and events cognized as 
existing in space and time, till the whole external 
universe became ideal, and all reality was supposed 
to lie in a series of connected mental forms?' 

McCosh frankly admits that there are difficulties 
connected with space as an objective existence. 
"But," he remarks, "it is of all courses the most 
foolish and suicidal to urge the difficulties connected 
with space and time as a reason for setting aside our 
intuitive convictions respecting them, say in regard 
to their reality. Doubtless we are landed in some 
perplexities by allowing that they are real, but we 
are landed in more hopeless difficulties and in far 



COGNITION OF SPACE. 103 

more serious consequences when we deny their 
reality ; and there is this important difference in the 
cases, that in the one the difficulties arise from the 
nature of the subject, whereas in the other they are 
created by our own unwarranted affirmations and 
speculations." 

Professor D. Stewart says : " We have an irre- 
sistible conviction that space is necessarily existent, 
and that its annihilation is impossible. To call this 
proposition in question, is to open the door to uni- 
versal skepticism." 

If we are asked. What is space ? in what does it 
consist ? we answer, we cannot tell. Our inability 
to state in what space consists, does not prove that 
it does not exist. Our inability to state in what the 
Divine Existence consists, does not prove that there 
is no Divine Existence. 

Space is not a material existence. It is extended, 
but it has not material extension. When we cognize 
it, we do not cognize it as possessing any of the 
qualities of matter. It has not gravity, solidity, or 
visible and tangible form. It has no one of the 
qualities of matter. 

Space is not a spiritual existence ; it is not an 
existence that thinks, feels, and wills. We have no 
proof that it thinks, feels, and wills; no reason to 
suppose that it does. 

Will it be asked. If it be not a material nor spiritual 
existence, what kind of existence is it ? We reply, 



104 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

It is space. All existences do not of necessity come 
under the head of material and spiritual existences. 
It does not follow that if space be neither material 
nor spiritual, there is no such thing. We know that 
it is ; we cognize its existence. 

Space is not an attribute of God, as was assumed 
by Dr. Samuel Clark. God is a spirit. His attributes 
are the attributes of a spiritual being. Space, we 
have seen, is not a spiritual existence, and for the 
same reason we may affirm that it is not the attribute 
of a spiritual being. 

Space is limitless. When the mind makes it the 
object of attention, it sees that it can have no limit. 
If it be asked how the mind can see so far, I reply : 
We are not called upon to tell how a thing is done, 
in order to know that it is done. We cognize the 
fact that all truth is consistent; that two proposi- 
tions, one directly in conflict with the other, cannot 
be true. Our conviction of the proposition is not an 
inference .from a number of experiences. The first 
time we found an assertion in conflict with a known 
truth, we knew it was false. We are just as sure 
that truth is consistent with itself in Jupiter as on 
the earth, though our minds have never ' made an 
excursion to that planet. 

If the mind can cognize the fact that truth is 
everywhere consistent with itself throughout the 
universe, may it not cognize the fact that space is 
Umitless ? 



COGNITION OF SPACE. 105 

It is common to say that space is limitless, be- 
cause we cannot conceive of its being limited. A 
mode of expression more strictly accordant with our 
consciousness is, that the mind sees that space can 
have no limits. 

Conceivability or non-conceiv ability is not a test 
of truth. The phrase, "I cannot conceive of it," has 
two meanings which must not be confounded. Two 
hills cannot exist without an intervening valley. 
Why not? I cannot' conceive of such a thing, is the 
reply. The phrase thus used expresses our cognition 
of the impossibility of the thing. The mind sees that 
it cannot be. 

A person ignorant of the existence of a magnetic 
telegraph is assured, on evidence that he cannot 
doubt, that a message was sent to California and an 
answer returned the same day. He says, I cannot 
conceive of such a thing ! The phrase expresses his 
ignorance of the manner in which the communication 
took place. 

Space always has existed, and always will exist. 
This is a bold affirmation; but it is one which the 
mind is abundantly competent to make. Suppose 
that all material objects were annihilated : we know 
that space would remain. Go back in thought to the 
era of creation : space existed then. The mind sees 
that it always must have existed, as clearly as it sees 
that the whole is greater than its part. 

Space is not divisible ; that is, it is not divisibl 
5- 



106 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOtHY. 

in the sense in which matter is divisible. Matter is 
divided when the parts are separated so that space 
intervenes. Space cannot be thus divided. We 
cannot separate space from space. 

Space is not made up of parts, yet it may be said 
to have parts or portions. A portion larger or smaller 
may be occupied by created objects ; yet space is not 
made up of portions as the earth is made up of por- 
tions. 

Points in space may be taken, and these points 

may sustain certain relations to each other. The 
science of geometry has for its subject-matter the 
relations of space. We can take a finite portion 
of space, and cognize its relations; yet the infinite 
is not made up of multiplications of the finite. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



COGI^ITIO]^ OF TIME. 



Whek we remember an event, we remember it as 
past. We thus have a cognition of time. The cog- 
nition is involved in every act of remembrance. We 
know that all events take place in time. 

What is time ? It is sometimes said that it is a 
portion of duration measured by the revolution of 
the heavenly bodies. But it may be asked. What is 
duration ? We cannot give a definition or description 
of duration. Yet we know that duration is. Like 
space, it is neither a material nor a spiritual existence. 
It is not a creation of the mind or form of our cogni- 
tions, as is asserted by Kant and others — whatever 
that phrase may mean. 

Duration had no beginning, and will have no end. 
The ground of this assertion is, that the mind sees 
that there never could have been a time when dura« 
tion was not. We turn to the past, and see that there 
could not have been a starting point to duration. 
We turn to the future, and see that it must continue 



108 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

to be. Time, duration as measured by the sun, may 
be no longer ; but duration must go on forever. 

It is thought by some, that what we have described 
as acts of cognition, are really acts of imagination. 
We go back or forward, it is said, in imagination, 
and find no beginning or end of duration; but our 
imaginations are not cognitions. I affirm that we 
cognize the fact that duration never began and never 
will have an end. It is a question to be decided by 
an appeal to consciousness. Do we not know that 
duration will never be ended ? Are we not as certain 
of it as we are that the sun exists ? This is not 
cognizing a fact at an infinite distance in the future, 
but cognizing the fact that duration not only is, but 
must be forever. 

It is said that time cannot have a real existence ; 
for then God, who cognizes all things, v/ould cognize 
its existence : but v/ith God there is no succession ; 
all events are present to his view in an " eternal now." 
We can form no conception of an " eternal now." 
God views events as successive, because they are suc- 
cessive. His views must be in accordance with truth. 
He created things at difierent times ; and he contin- 
ues to act. Immutability does not prevent him from 
doing to-day what he did not do yesterday. He is 
the same to-day, yesterday, and forever — that is, his 
holy character remains unchanged. Character re- 
mains unchanged, though the acts that manifest it 
may vary and take place at difierent times. 



COGNITION OF TIME. 109 

The mode of the Divine existence, and of the 
action of the Divine Mind, is beyond our powers of 
cos-nition. Hence we should make no unauthorized 
or unmeaning assertions concerning it. 

Duration is a reality. It is a fact that events take 
place as successive ; that successiveness may be meas- 
ured. Some writers say that time is a mere word ex- 
pressive of the fact that events are successive. Sup- 
pose all events and all created objects were to cease — 
would there be any such thing as duration? God 
would endure. Is time, 'then, an attribute of God, as 
some have contended ? The everlasting existence .of 
God is a fact, but is no part of his being, as benevo- 
lence and justice are. 

What then is time, or duration ? The best answer 
that can be given is, that it is time, duration. We 
know what it is, though we cannot define it or state 
in what it consists. 

We have all the knowledge of time that is needed. 
We must not, in order to carry out pur notions of 
philosophical inquiry, multiply words without knovfl- 
edge. In every department of knowledge the last 
resort is, the mind's cognition that a thing is ; and all 
questions beyond that may be answered by saying, 
" I don't know." It oftea requires as much discrimi- 
nation to make an intelligent confession of ignorance, 
as to make the clearest explanations. 

Duration and space are infinite ; that is, the one 
has limitless extension, and the other is without be- 



110 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ginning or end. It has been said that if space and 
time are infinite realities, and God is an infinite Being, 
then we have three infinite existences — which, it is 
alleged, is impossible. It is not possible that there 
be three infinite beings, but there is no absurdity in 
supposing the existence of limitless space as the 
theatre of creative power for an infinite being, nor in 
supposing that that being has always lived, and al- 
ways will live. We do not assume that infinite dura, 
tion is an infinite being. 



CHAPTER XV. 



EELATIOl^S. 



Whek we cognize two or more objects, we cog- 
nize something more than their existence and quali- 
ties. When we cognize the pillars of a portico, we 
see that they are similar to each other. "We look 
upon two adjacent mountains, and see that one is 
higher than the other. We see a number of men 
marching, and that one goes before the other. We 
see a blow given to a standing pillar, and it falls : 
the blow caused the pillar to fall. 

In the above-mentioned cases we cognize the ob- 
jects, and certain relations existing between them ; 
we cognize the relations of resemblance, superiority, 
of antecedence and consequence, and of cause and 
effect. 

No object, material or mental, exists isolated. 
The almost numberless existences have relations ex- 
isting between thfem, and a knowledge of these rela- 
tions constitutes no small part of our knowledge. 

Existences and their relations may be said to 
constitute the entire material of our knowledge. 



112 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Some of the more obvious relations may easily be 
classified, such as those of resemblance, of proportion, 
and of cause and eflfect. The number of relations is 
so great, that an exhaustive classification cannot be 
made. The field of mental discovery — I do not mean 
as to the operations of mind, but as to truth — per- 
tains chiefly to relations between known existences 
and truths. Relations exist not only between exist- 
ing things, but between one another. Every thought 
sustains certain relations to other thoughts. The 
cognition of relations previously unnoticed, consti- 
tutes, to a good degree, originality, of thought. 

An original thinker does not create truth, any 
mors than an original geographical discoverer creates 
the rivers and mountains which he makes known to 
the world. The man of original thought is one who 
sees more clearly and further than his fellows. Origi- 
nality of thought is not then a sudden inspiration, it 
is simply mental seeing — ^^eeing vfhat is. The power 
may thus be cultivated. The sailor sharpens his 
vision by careful and earnest looking into the distant 
blending of the earth and sky, and hence can discern 
a sail long before it is visible to uneducated eyes. In 
like manner, some, by steady and earnest looking in 
the direction of truth, come to see objects unseen by 
others. Newton cultivated original thought by long 
and patient looking. All true originality is to be 
sought in that way, and not by imitating the uncouth 
phraseology of men claiming to possess origii?ahty 



RELATIONS. 113 

The perception of relations has usually been 
treated as an act of judgment. If one chooses to call 
those cognitions which are the result of the cognition 
of two or more objects, judgments, it may be well, 
though there is danger of leading the indiscriminating 
reader to suppose a judgment to be something generi- 
cally different from a cognition. 

Judgment is said to be the result of comparison. 
The mind compares two objects, and judges that they 
are equal, or that one is greater than the other — that 
they agree or disagree. It is desirable to confine the 
word judgment to those opinions or beliefs which are 
the result of evidence made up of parts, each incon- 
clusive in itself, or of evidences conflicting. Thus we 
say a man has sound judgment, whose opinions on dif- 
ficult and complicated subjects are usually correct. 

The operation of the mind in cognizing relations, 
seems to be this : We cognize the objects, and then 
the relation existing between them. Our cognitions 
of relations are conditioned upon our cognition of the 
objects related. This is what actually takes place ; 
and nothing is gained, and much may be lost, by call- 
ing in the agency of the faculty of judgment. 

Our knowledge of relations is as positive and real 
as our knowledge of existences. The mind does not 
create the resemblance between two objects ; it sim- 
ply cognizes it. The resemblance is a reality as truly 
as the resembling objects are a reality. The reality 
of the resemblance is not a reality apart from the re- 



114 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

sembling objects. There can be no such thing as re- 
semblance apart from resembling objects. The fact 
that the objects resemble each other, is a real fact. 
Our knowledge which has relations for its subject, is 
thus as real as any portion of our knowledge. 

Some relations are cognized intuitively, and others 
mediately, that is, by the aid of other truths. The 
relations existing between material and spiritual 
existences, and between all objects of thought and 
feeling, are inexhaustible to finite minds. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

EESEMBLAl!^CE — GENERALIZATION GENEEAL TERMS- 
ABSTRACT TERMS. 

One of the most important of relations is that of 
resemblance. Our cognition of resemblance is said 
to be the result of comparison. It is said we com- 
pare the objects, and by an act of judgment perceive 
that they are like or unlike. What is the process as 
revealed by consciousness ? I look toward a forest, 
and see two oaks, and also see that they are simi- 
lar in size, form, and color. , The perception of the 
trees is a direct act, and the perception of their resem- 
blance follows the perception of the trees. If both 
the trees are within range of vision at the same mo- 
ment, the perception of resemblance immediately fol- 
lows the perception of the trees. It may be that the 
trees may not both be perceived at the same moment. 
An act of memory then takes place antecedent to the 
perception of resemblance. The perception of resem- 
blance is a direct perception, conditioned on the per- 
ception of the trees. Comparison is not therefore an 
act generically different from an act of cognition. 



116 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Classification and generalization are conditioned 
on oiir power of cognizing resemblance. Our cog- 
nitions are always of particulars — are always individ- 
ual cognitions. If we had not the power of classifi- 
cation, we should be overwhelmed with the number 
of individual objects, and language would fail us in 
our attempts to designate them. By classification we 
condense our knowledge, and make it manageable. 

We have before us, in a park, a vast number of 
animals. We have never seen them before. Were 
our knowledge confined to individuals, it would soon 
become confused and unwieldy. But we notice that 
some resemble others, and we mentally separate those 
resembling each other in certain points, and put them 
in a class by themselves. We give to each class a 
name. 

The process supposed is strictly analogous to the 
process of generalization. Objects resembling each 
other are placed in a class by themselves, and a name 
given to the class. The name thus given is a com- 
mon or general term. 

(^Have general terms any meaning?/ Are there 
any real existences corresponding to the terms ani- 
mal, man, tree ? There are individual animals, indi- 
vidual m.cn, individual trees. Are there any such 
things as a general animal, a general man, a general 
tree ? We can form a conception, idea, or notion 
of an individual animal — a bear, for instance ; of an 
individual man — John, for instance ; of an individual 



RESEMBLANCE, ETC. 117 

tree — the hickory that overshadowed the homestead. 
But can we form a conception or notion of a general 
man, a general animal, a general tree ? If we make 
the attempt, shall we not find the notion of an indi- 
vidual as the result ? Have* general terms, then, 
no meaning ? Are they merely names ? 

It may be said that general terms stand for all the 
individuals of the class — that man means all men. 
We must distinguish, between general and collective 
terms. A collective term, such as army, congrega- 
tion, church, includes the aggregate of individuals 
composing the army or the church. The amount of 
meaning of the term varies at different times. But 
not so with general terms. The meaning of the 
term man remains the same, whether there are more 
or fewer men. It is clear that it has some meaning, 
is not a mere, name, and that there is no such thing 
as an existing man in general for it to signify. 
What, then, does it stand for? What is the object 
of our thoughts, when we employ a general term ? 
The general term or name of a class expresses the 
qualities common to all the members of the class. 
Man stands for those qualities which belong to all 
men. We see that all men resemble each other in 
some respects, though they may differ in other re- 
spects. The term man, then, has a meaning as truly 
as the term John. 

McCosh remarks : "It has been very generally 
allowed by philosophers, that the mind begins with 



118 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the knowledge of individual objects or scenes pre- 
sented to it. . Among these objects it may, by its 
comparative faculty, discover resemblances. In some 
cases the comparison is preceded by an abstraction 
of the qualities in respect of which the objects are 
alike ; in other cases it may be perceived, at once that 
there is ^ resemblance, and the abstraction of the 
points of resemblance may follow. In all cases, both 
the discovery of resemblance and abstraction are 
needful to generalization, in which we put in a class, 
and usually call by a common name, the objects 
thought to resemble each other in certain respects, 
and so far as they resemble each other. 

" I am prepared to lay down, in regard to generali- 
zation, a proposition similar to that which I am in- 
clined to enforce in regard to abstraction. When the 
individuals are real, the generalization has also a real- 
ity ; that is, there is a reality in the class. True, I 
may constitute a class from imaginary individuals — 
say a class of griffins, or a class of mermaids, or a 
class of ghosts. In such a case the general is as 
unreal as the singular. But if my generalization is 
from real objects ; if it is a generalization made up 
of objects in nature, say of marbles, or reptiles, or 
cruciferous plants, or even of objects of human work- 
manship, such as chairs, or houses, or churches, then 
the intellectual product has also a reality involved. 

"I do not mean to say that the general exists, or 
can exist, as an individual thing, like the singulars 



119 

which it embraces — that the class crocodile has the 
same sort of existence as the individual crocodile ; 
but I maintain that it has a reality in the common 
attributes possessed by the objects. 

" In abstraction, the reality may be simply that of 
an attribute in an individual object. In generaliza- 
tion, it is the possession of a common attribute by an 
indefinite number of objects. The composition of 
marble is a fact quite as much, though not exactly of 
the same sort, as the limestone itself. The possession 
of cold blood, and of the three heart-compartments, 
is a reality quite as much as the individual crocodile 
is. The possession of four cross petals is a real thing, 
just as a particular wild mustard plant is. The struc- 
ture and adaptation to a practical use, of chair, house, 
and church, are not fictitious, any more than this 
chair, or this house, or this church is. This account 
preserves us, on the one hand, from an extravagant 
realism, which would give to the universal the same 
sort of reality as the singular; and, on the other, 
from an extreme conceptualism or nominalism, which 
would place the reality solely in the conception of 
the mind, or in the name. The class has a reality, 
but it is simply in the possession of common qualities 
by an indefinite number of objects. 

"According to this view, abstraction and generali- 
zation are processes of a very high order ; they are, 
in fact, essential to philosophy, quite as much so 
indeed, as Plato and the Schoolmen supposed. With 



120 ELEMENTS -OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

out them we can never reach the truths on which the 
higher forms of wisdom gaze. They always presup- 
pose, indeed, that something has been given them ; 
but, acting upon this, they turn it to most important 
purposes ; and if they start with realities and are 
properly conducted, they are ever in the region of 
realities, and of realities of the highest kind. We 
shall see, as we advance, tliat all philosophic notions 
and maxims are the results of these processes, some 
of them being abstractions, and others being also of 
the nature of generalizations." 

Generalization is said to depend upon abstraction. 
There is connected with the latter term, at least in 
the minds of some, an obscurity which it may be 
well to dispel. The act of abstraction is not so diffi- 
cult and mysterious as is sometimes supposed. We 
see an object — a rose, for example — and fix our atten- 
tion exclusively upon the color. We perform an act 
of abstraction. To contemplate an object abstractly, 
is to make it an object of exclusive attention. 

Abstract and general terms are often confounded. 
Abstract terms are expressive of our notion of quali- 
ties, attributes, or objects, viewed apart from the 
qualities, attributes, or objects with which they are 
connected. I see a round object — a globe. I can 
contemplate the roundness apart from the color and 
density of the ball. I say of the ball that it is 
round. The same quality w^hich leads me to affirm 
that the ball is round, when contemplated apart from 



121 

tlie ball, separated in thouglit from the ball, is called 
roundness. Is there any such thing as roundness ? 
Not as a separate entity. Roundness is the name ap- 
plied to a quality viewed apart from other qualities. 
It has, therefore, a real significance, 

"Abstraction," says McCosh, "may be considered 
in a wider or in a narrower sense. It may be regard- 
ed, in an extended sense, as that operation of mind 
in which, to use the language of Whately, ' we draw 
off and contemplate separately any part of an object 
presented to the mind, disregarding the rest.' In 
this more general sense the parts may exist separately 
as well as the whole ; thus, having seen a judge with 
his wig, we can not only separate in thought the wig 
from the judge, but the wig can in fact be separated 
from the wearer. In a narrower sense, abstraction is 
that operation of mind in which we contemplate the 
quality of an object separately from the object. 

" ' An abstract name,' says Mr. Mill (' Logic,' book 
i. ch. ii.), ^is a name which stands for an attribute of 
a thing.' In this sense, the part separated in thought 
cannot be separated from the object in fact. Color 
may be thought of (not seen or imagined) apart from 
an extended body, but cannot exist apart from a col- 
ored object. 

" It is a common impression that our abstractions 

are in no sense realities. I wish, at this early stage 

of the investigations to be prosecuted in this treatise, 

to set myself against this view which has sometimes 

6 



122 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

been positively expressed, but is far more freg[nently 
underlying and implied in statements and arguments 
without being formally announced. I lay down a 
very different position, that if the concrete be real, 
and the abstraction be properly made, the abstract 
thing, that is, the thing contemplated in the abstrac- 
tion, will also be real. I may never have seen a bird 
without vangs, but I can consider the wings apart 
from the bird, and I am sure that the wings have as 
real an existence as the bird itself. This will be ad- 
mitted at once in regard to all such cases as this, in 
which I can in fact separate the pinions from the 
body of the fowl. But I go a step further, anel 
maintain, that even in cases in which the part ab- 
stracted cannot be separated in reality from the 
whole, still it is to be considered as real. It may not 
have, or be capable of having, an independent real- 
ity, but still it has a reality. I can tliink of gravita.- 
tion apart from a given body, or from the chemical 
affinity of that body ; and in doing so I do not sup- 
pose that it can exist apart from body ; still the 
gravitation has an existence just as much as the body 
has: it has not a reality independent of the body, 
but it has a reality in the body, as a quality of it. 
The same remark might be applied to, and will hold 
good of, any other abstraction. No doubt, if the 
original concrete object be imaginary, the abstrac- 
tion formed from it may be the same. I can separate 
in thought the beauty of Venus from Venus herself; 



RESEIilBLAJSrCE, ETC. 123 

and, of course, as Venus is ideal, so also is her 
beauty. But wlien the object is real, and I abstract 
or separately contemplate what has been known in 
the real, then, as the concrete object is real, so is also 
the part or quality abstracted real ; not that it may 
be a reality capable of subsisting in itself, but still a 
reality in the object as a quality of it. 

" I reckon it of the utmost moment to make this 
remark. The view here presented saves us, on the 
one hand, from an extreme realism, which would 
attribute an independent reality to every quality ab- 
stracted — which would, for example, represent beauty 
as a separate thing, like a beautiful scene in nature ; 
and, on the other hand, from what is more important 
in our present inquiry, from regarding it as a non- 
entity, or at the utmost as a mere form or creation 
of the mind. We are ever hearing the phrase re- 
peated, a ^ mere abstraction ; ' and the language is 
applied to such objects as space, time, beauty, and 
even truth and moral good. In opposition to such 
views, I maintain that abstraction is not necessarily 
concerned about fictions or illusions. Abstractions 
are not, as they have often been represented, the 
attenuated ghosts of departed quantities ; they may 
rather be represented as the very skeleton of the 
body, not capable of action alone, but still an impor- 
tant existence in the body, acting with its covering 
of flesh and skin." 

In former times, the question, " What is the ob- 



124 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL rHILOSOPHY. 

ject of thought when we employ general terms ? " 
was a prolific subject of discussion. 

The Nominalists held that general terms are mere 
names without any signification — that we have no 
ideas corresponding to general terms. The Realists 
held that there are real existences corresponding to 
those terms. 

Nominalism is still held by quite a number of 
philosopher,^ : a modified style of realism seems also 
to be held by some. 

We have seen what general terms signify. It 
may be well to notice a statement made by nominal- 
ists. It is said that we can form no general idea of 
any class of objects : we can form only particular 
ideas. We can form an idea of an acute-angled tri- 
angle, and of a right-angled triangle, and of an 
obtuse-angled triangle ; but we cannot form an idea 
of a general triangle which shall be acute, right, 
obtuse, and right-angled at the same time. 

In this statement the term idea is used as synony- 
mous with image. We cannot form a mental image 
of an acute, obtuse, and right-angled triangle in one. 
It should be observed that a fact may be real, though 
not mentally picturable. The general term may 
have a meaning, though that meaning may not con- 
stitute a mental image. 

. The general term triangle includes the qualities 
in which the different kinds of triano;le ao:ree. 
They agree in having three sides and three angles. 



125 



No one affirms that the general term stands for any 
and every kind of triangle in particular, as the objec- 
tion above stated assumes. It stands for those things 
which are common to all triangles. 

Bailey denies altogether the existence of abstract 
ideas or notions. " It has been maintained by emi- 
nent philosophers, that we form in our minds what 
they term abstract notions corresponding to the ab- 
stract terms employed in writing and speaking ; but 
they have not been hitherto successful in their at- 
tempts to show what an abstract notion is. On 
closely analyzing what passes in my own mind, I do 
not discover that I can think of any thing but par- 
ticular objects and events, either apart or combined, 
single or numerous, with various degrees of distinct- 
ness or completeness." 

Again : " Now, my doctrine is, that, as we are 
unable to perceive, so we are unable to conceive any 
separate entity corresponding to an abstract term ; 
nor are we conscious of any peculiar mental phe- 
nomena to which that term can be applied. In dif- 
ferent language, we have no ideas in the mind an- 
swering to such words as extension and motion ; but 
when they are used, v>^e think of an extended and 
moving body. Our thoughts on such occasions may 
frequently be vague, shadowy, indistinct, and fugi- 
tive, but their real character is what I have described 
it to be." 

Because the term brightness suggests the thought 



•^ 



126 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of the sun, or a lamp, or some other bright object, 
^ Bailey affirms that it has no meaning — that is, " no 
^ notion corresponding to it;" that there are "no pe- 
> culiar mental phenomena to which it can be applied." 
,.^ We affirm that it expresses a quality considered 
,t apart from the object to which it belongs, and that 
\ this is the peculiar mental phenomenon to which it is 
: properly applied. Bright expresses a quality belong- 
ing to some object. Brightness exj^resses the qual- 
ity mentally viewed as separate from the object. 
Brightness is not an entity separate from a material 
object. It marks a quality of a material object con- 
templated in a particular way. Brightness, truth, 
life, denote no separate entities, but qualities of ob- 
jects, propositions, beings, viewed abstractly. The 
abstract term does not express an existence, but a 
mental phenomenon vfhich is as real as any existence. 
The fact that an abstract or general term brings 
up with greater or less distinctness a particular 
image, does not prove that said image is the signifi- 
cation of the te]'m. When you speak of the >house 
m which you live, the image of the house arises, and 
of the overhanging tree also. But the tree is no part 
of the idea of the house. 

General terms and abstract terms, then, are not 
mere words. They do not express entities apart 
from the individuals of the class, and the substance. 
They do not express nonentities, but realities such as 
have been described above. 



127 



Individual terms are more definite and precise 
tlian general and abstract terms. In composition, 
vivacity is promoted by avoiding as much as may be 
the use of abstract, general, and collective terms. 
The fact that our original cognitions are individual, 
gives a hint as to the best mode of producing cogni- 
tions in the minds of others. 



CHAPTEK XVIt 

CAUSE A]^D EFFECT. 

Events have various relations existing between 
them. The most important one is that of cause and 
effect. \ 

Every physical event has a cause. We may he 
ignorant of the cause of a given event — we may fail 
to discover it even after the most careful investiga- 
tion ; hut we know that the event had a cause. 
What is the ground of this knowledge ? 

We will suppose the event to be the fall of a 
tree : what is the ground of our knowledge of that 
event ? We saw it — we saw the tree fall ; that is, 
the mind cognized the fact through the sense of 
sight. 

What is the ground of our knowledge that the 
event thus cognized had a cause ? The same as our 
knowledge of the event : we saw it — not the particu- 
lar cause of the event, but saw that it had a cause. 

We know that an event has a cause just as we 
know that the event occurs. In both cases we cog- 
nize the fact. Whenever we cognize an event, we 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 129 

also cognize the fact that it had a cause. Both are 

•* direct, intuitive coo-nitions of the mind. In the one 

\^ case, the cognition may take place through the agen- 

cy of the senses ; in the other case, the cognition is 
; conditioned on the cognition of the event."" ^ ^f^ " 

Perhaps it may Ibe said, in answer to the question, 

How do we know that every event has a cause ? that 
u we know it from experience. If by this is meant, that 

in the case of every event cognized by us, we have 
^ cognized the fact that it had some cause, the asser- 
J tion is true. But the idea of cause is no more the 
^ result of experience, than the idea of the event is the 
^" result of experience. Cognitions of both are expe- 
. riences, but not deductions from former experiences. 
I The truth of the proposition, every event has a 

i "^cause, is not the result of experience in the sense in fi^'^ 

which the expression is commonly used. We say ^^^^ 

we learn from experience that men are to be tried 

. /before they are trusted. The conclusion is the result 

I .;^ of numerous cognitions. No single cognition would -4 

I *^ authorize the conclusion. We learn from experience ^^ 

^ that all kinds of wood will burn — not that we have 

I <^ burned all kinds of wood : we have burned several .7 
K . . . ^; 

' J ^ kinds, and hence conclude that all kinds of wood will ).' 

X burn. 

We do not come to the conclusion that every 
- event has a cause, because we have found that a 
number of events have had causes, and hence con- 
elude that all must have. The truth that all events 



fes^^ 



130 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

must have causes is cognized as soon as an event is 
cognized. When we have cognized a thousand 
events, no additional certainty is thereby added to 
the proposition. We are certain of its truth when 
we have cognized one event. 

ISTo one, on consulting his past consciousness, will 
2nd that he was once ignorant of the truth that every 
;3vent must have a cause — that is, ignorant after he 
Aad cognized an event — and that he acquired that 
•' ruth gradually by experience. 

The infant gives evidence that it cognizes this 
iruth as soon as it cognizes events. It also cognizes 
the kindred proposition that like causes produce like 
effects. Let him burn his fingers in the flame of a 
candle, and he will not thrust them into the flame a 
second time. 

The maxim, every event must have a cause, is 
a generalized statement of what we intuitively cog- 
nize whenever we cognize an event. 

The following is McCosh's method of showing 
that our cognition of causality is not a generalization 
from experience : 

" First, it would not, as being the result of gen- 
eralization, operate at so early a period of life as our 
belief in cause and effect evidently does. The causal 
belief [cognition] is as strong in infancy as in mature 
life or in old age ; is as strong among savages as in 
civilized countries in which scientific observation has 
made the greatest advances. True, savage nations 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 131 

have not a belief in the nniformity of nature, which 
is a result of observation ; they discover events which 
are thought to have no cause in nature, but then they 
seek for a cause beyond nature. Now, if the con- 
viction of causation were like the belief in the uni- 
formity of nature, a principle derived from induc- 
tion — which must necessarily be a large induction — 
it would be difficult to account for its existence and 
its invariable operation in the earliest stages of indi- 
vidual life and of society. I admit that all this merely 
proves that there is a native instinct or inclination 
prompting us to rise from an eifect to a cause, and by 
no means justifies us in standing up for a necessary 
conviction. 

" Secondly, it would scarcely account for the uni- 
versality of the belief of men brought up in such 
various countries and situations, attached to such 
different sects and creeds, and under the influence 
of all kinds of whim and caprice. This can be most 
satisfactorily explained by supposing that there is a 
native principle at work, inclining and guiding all 
men. Such a consideration, I allovf, does not show 
that the conviction is a fundamental one, nor would 
I urge it as in itself a positive proof of the existence 
even of a native instinct ; still it is a strong presump- 
tion. Indeed, the theory which supposes that there 
is some original impulse or inclination, is the only 
one which can give a full explanation of all the 



132 ELEMEISTTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

beliefs which man cherishes, and the judgments 
which he ever pronounces. 

" Thirdly, it would not account for the fundamental 
and necessary character of the judgment. This is 
the conclusive circumstance, of which the others are 
to be regarded as merely corroborations. No pos- 
sible length or uniformity could or should give this 
necessity of conviction to the judgment. We might 
have seen A and B, this stone and that stone, this 
star and that star, this man and that man together, 
a thousand, or a million, or a billion of times, and 
without our ever having seen them separate ; but this 
would not and ought not to necessitate us to believe 
that they have been forever together, and shall be 
forever together, and must be forever together. No 
doubt, it would lead us when we fell in with the one 
to look for the other, and we would wonder if the 
one presented itself without the other ; still, it is 
possible for us to conceive, and, on evidence being 
produced, to believe that there may be the one with- 
out the other. It was long supposed that all metals 
are comparatively heavy; but while every one was 
astonished at the fact, no one was prepared to deny 
it, when it was shown by Davy that potassium floated 
on water. Down to a very recent date civilized men 
had never seen a black swan, yet no naturalist was 
ever so presumptuous as to affirm that there never 
could be such an animal ; and when black swans 
were discovered in Australia, scientific men, no doubt, 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 133 

wondered, but never went so far as to deny the fact. 
A very wide and uniform experience would justify a 
general expectation, but not a necessary conviction ; 
and this experience is liable to be disturbed at any 
time by a new occurrence inconsistent with what has 
been previously known to us. But the belief in the 
connection between cause and effect is of a totally 
different character. We can believe that two things 
which have been united since creation began, may 
never be united again while creation lasts; but we 
never can be made to believe, or rather think, judge, 
or decide (for this is the right expression), that a 
change can take place without a cause. We can 
believe that night and day might henceforth be dis- 
connected, and that from and after this day or some 
other day there would only be perpetual day or per- 
petual night on the earth; but we could never be 
: made to decide that, the causes which produced day 
, and night being the same, there ever could be any 
''^^^other effect than day and night. We could believe, 
|^.pn sufficient evidence, that the sun might not rise on 
^^ our earth to-morrow ; but we never could be made to 
judge that, the sun and earth and all other things 
necessary to the sun rising on our earth abiding as 
they are, the luminary of day should not run his 
round as usual. We see at once that there is a dif- 
ference between the judgment of the mind in the two 
cases ; in the case in which we have before us a mere 
conjunction sanctioned by a wide and invariable in- 



134 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

duction, and that in which we have an effect, and 
connect it with its cause. The one belief can be 
overcome, and should be overcome at any time by a 
new inconsistent fact coming under our observation ; 
whereas, in regard to the other, we are confident that 
it never can be modified or set aside, and we feel that 
it ought not to be overborne." 

^ir. J. S. Mill, the author of Mill's "Logic" and 
other very able works, denies that the cognition of 
" the law of causation " is intuitive. He regards the 
proposition that every event has a cause as true, so 
far as this world is concerned, because observation 
has shown it to be true. 

" The uniformity in the succession of events," he 
remarks, " otherwise called the law of causation, must 
not be received as a law of the universe, but of that 
portion of it only that is within range of our sure 
observation, with a reasonable degree of extension to 
adjacent cases." 

Again : " I am convinced that any one accustomed 
to abstraction and analysis, who vfill fairly exert his 
faculties for the purpose, will, when his imagination 
has learned to entertain the notion, find no difficulty 
in conceiving that in some one, for instance, of the 
many firmaments into which sidereal astronomy now 
divides the universe, events may succeed one another 
at random without any fixed law ; nor can any thing 
m our experience, or in our mental nature, constitute 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 135 

a sufficient, or indeed any reason for believing that 
this is nowhere the case." 

If by "events succeeding one another at random," 
he means happening without a cause, then our " men- 
tal nature" does furnish a sufficient reason for deny- 
ing his assertion. The mind is so constituted that it 
cognizes the fact that distant events must have causes, 
as well as those which are near at hand. 

If he means to assert that a different kind of uni- 
formity may exist in other portions of the universe, 
the assertion may be correct. Different causes may 
exist in different portions of the universe. The uni- 
formity which we witness may not prevail throughout 
the universe; but the truth that every event has a 
cause does thus prevail. 

If it be asked. How do we know that an event in 
Sirius must have a cause ? the reply is, the mind 
cognizes that truth. If it be asked. How can the 
mind cognize a truth so distant from it ? the reply is, 
the mind does cognize said truth. The questions. 
Sow can the mind cognize? and ii^Jiat does it cog- 
nize ? are distinct. We can ansv/er the latter, but 
not the former. 

Dr. Thomas Brown taught that invariable ante- 
cedence and consequence constitutes the relation of 
cause and effect. He affirms that " we have no other 
idea in our minds when we speak of cause and effect, 
than an invariable antecedence and consequence." 

If antecedence and consequence constitute the 



136 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

relation of cause and effect, there is no such thing 
as power. The terms power, efficacy, energy, mean 
nothing but invariable antecedence and consequence. 

" To him," says this author, " Avho had previously 
kindled a fire, and placed on it a vessel full of water, 
with a certainty that in that situation the water 
would become speedily hot, what additional informa- 
tion would be given by telling him that the fire had 
the power of boiling water?" 

"It is only by confoundiug casual with uniform 
and invariable antecedence, that power can be con- 
ceived to be something different from antecedence." 

" In the various changes that occur, there can as 
little be any poAvers or susceptibilities different from 
the antecedents and consequents themselves^ as there 
can be forms differing from the coexisting particles 
of matter which constitute them." 

In opposition to these assertions, it is sufiicient to 
say that all men do cognize the existence of power 
in the antecedents which are causes. Words expres- 
sive of the idea of power are found in every language. 
All men testify to the fdct that they intuitively cog- 
nize the existence of power. If they, like Brown, 
deny it in words, their actions testify to the truth. 

There are many things invariably antecedent 
to other things^ which are not the causes of those 
things. The antecedent which has power to produce 
the consequent, is the antecedent which we cognize as 
the cause. 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 137 

"Simple and invariable succession," says Dr. 

Hickok, "is not onr conviction of cause and effect, 

nor at all like it. Night invariably succeeds the 

day; one o'clock invariably succeeds twelve o'clock; 

one fixed star invariably succeeds another fixed star 

in crossing our meridian ; but none of these invariable 

successions is our conviction of causal connection. 

If we assume two pair of wheels, one of which has 

each wheel separately driven so that the cogs in 

their periphery exactly match in every revolution; 

but the other pair is so constructed, that one wheel 

being moved, its cogs drive the other ; there will be 

alike invariable succession in each case ; but we must 

' carry the mind quite beyond the fact of invariable 

. succession to some efficiency in an antecedent that 

^' produces the consequent. No conception of simple 

^ succession, no matter how invariable, is our notion of 

^ cause." 

J*^ The consciousness of the reader will attest the 
^ truth of the statement thus made. 
^ ^ The following remarks are from the pen of Pro- 
fessor Wilson, Dr. Brown's successor in the chair of 
Moral Philosophy at Edinburgh. They are given as 
quoted by Hamilton. The test proposed by Dr. 
J ! Brown was: "Let any one ask himself what it is 
which he means by the term power, and, without 
contenting himself with a few phrases v/hich signify 
nothing, reflect before he gives his answer, and he 
will find that he means nothing more than that, in 



138 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PniLOSOPIIY. 

all similar circumstances, the explosion of gunpow- 
der Tvill be the immediate and uniform consequence 
of the application of a spark." 

^2, "Let us, then," says Professor Wilson, "apply 
' * the test by which Dr. Bro^yn proposes the truth of 
his*^iews shall be tried. Let us ask ourselves what 
we mean when we say that the spark has power to 
kindle the gunpowder — that powder is susceptible of 
being kindled by the spark. Do we mean only, that 
when they come together this will happen ? Do we 
merely predict this visible and certain futurity ? 
apJ' We do not fear to say, that when we speak of a 
^**power in one substance to produce a change in an- 
other, and of a susceptibility of such change in that 
other, v/e express more than our belief that the 
change has taken place, and will take place. There 
is more in our mind than a conviction of the past and 
a foresight of the future. There is, besides this, the 
conception of a fixed constitution of their nature, 
which determines the event — a constitution which, 
while it lasts, makes the event the necessary conse- 
quence of the situation in which the objects are 
placed. We should say, then, that there are includ- 
ed in these terms, 'power' and 'susceptibility of 
change,' two ideas which are not expressed in Dr. 
Brown's analysis — one of necessity, and the other of 
a constitution of things, in which that necessity is 
established. That these two ideas are not expressed 
in Dr. Brown's analysis, is seen by quoting again his 



CAUSE AWD EFFECT. 139 

words : ' He will find that he means nothing more 
than that, in all similar circumstances, the explosion 
of gunpowder will be the immediate and uniform 
consequence of the application of a spark.' 

" It is certain, from the whole tenor of his work, 
that Dr. Brown has designed to exclude the idea of 
necessity from his analysis." , ^ 

The following is Dr. Hickok's account of Kant's 
view of the relation of cause and effect : 

" Kant assumes the phenomenal consequences to 
be real ; but what the substances as things in them- 
selves, of which these phenomena are only qualities, 
truly are, can never be known by human intelligence. 
The mind, as a regulative principle of its thinking in 
judgments, is obliged to use the conception of cau- 
sality, and bring its sequences into connection under 
this category ; but this notion of causality is alto- 
gether subjective — a mental conception for regulat- 
ing the mind's own thinking ; and we cannot say 
that the phenomenal realities have any such connec- 
tions in the things themselves. The mind has such 
original forms, as pure conceptions, from itself, and, 
in thinking, it fits these forms on to the real phe- 
nomena, and brings them into orderly connection 
thereby ; but it is the mind which makes the con- 
nections, and not that the connections are in the 
things themselves, and that they make the mind to 
know after their conditions." .. , 

Kant admits that we have the idea of power, but 



140 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

affirms that it is simply " subjective" — a figment of 
the mind, not a cognition of reality. Consciousness 
attests that the idea of power is the cognition of a 
reality in things themselves. 

Sir William Hamilton has put forth a new theory 
of causality ; we presume his claims to originality in 
regard to it are just. 

The following is his account of " the phenomenon 
of causality": "When we are aware of something 
which begins to be, we are, by the necessity of our 
intelligence, constrained to believe that it has a 
cause. But what does the expression, that it has a 
eausCy signify ? If we analyze our thought, we shall 
find that it simply means that, as we cannot con- 
ceive any new existence to commence, therefore all 
that is now seen to arise under a new appearance had 
previously an existence under a prior form. We are 
utterly unable to realize in thought the possibility of 
the complement of existence being either increased 
or diminished. We are unable, on the one hand, to 
conceive of nothing becoming something, or, on the 
other hand, of something becoming nothing. When 
God is said to create out of nothing, we construe this 
to thought by supposing that He evolves existence 
out of Himself. We view the Creator as the cause of 
the universe. Mjc 7iihilo rdhil^ in nihilum nil posse 
reverti^ expresses, in its purest form, the whole intel- 
lectual phenomenon of causality." He affirms " that 
causation is simply our inability to think an absolute 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 141 

commencement or an absolute termination of be- 
ing." 

If causation is simply our inability to think an 
absolute commencement or an absolute termination 
of being, it is wholly a subjective matter. But it is 
to be presumed that he meant that our idea of cause 
is the result of our inability. The question is not to 
be decided by an inference from an elaborate theory 
of " the conditioned," or from any other theory, but 
by an appeal to consciousness. Whenever an event 
takes place, does not every one intuitively cognize 
the truth that it had an adequate cause ? Is not the 
cognition of cause as clear and defined a cognition, 
as any cognition of which we are conscious ? May 
we not as well say that our cognition of a body as 
extended or colored is the result of " inability, " as 
our cognition of cause ? If it be a fact of conscious- 
ness, that whenever we cognize an event we intui- 
tively cognize the fact that it must have an adequate 
cause, then the elaborate theory of Hamilton is 
false. 

Some questions may be asked with respect to 
Hamilton's statements as to the phenomena of cau- 
sality. Is it true that " all that is now seen to arise 
under a new appearance, had previously an existence 
under a prior form " ? In v/hat form did the mate- 
rial universe exist, before God " in the beginning cre- 
ated the heavens and the earth " ? Will it be said 
that it existed in the power of God ? That is simply 



142 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

saying that God had power to bring it into exist- 
ence. 

Is it true that we cannot conceive of God cre- 
^ ating something out of nothing ; and that we con- 
strue it to thought "by supposing that He evolyes ex- 
istence out of Himself? We cannot, it is granted, 
conceive how God creates something out of nothing ; 
but we can conceive the fact of His doing so. 

What is meant by evolving existence out of Him- 
self? Is it affirmed that the world previously exist- 
ed in God ? If it existed as matter, is God then 
material ? If it existed as spirit, then can spirit be 
changed into matter ? 

Can any thing be properly said to be evolved 
L from the Divine existence in any other sense than 
' that of being created by Divine power ? If this is 
what Hamilton means, then his view of causation is 
reduced to the one received practically by all men, 
and his claims to the discovery amount simply to a 
new use of terms. 

It has by some been thought difficult to account 
for the character of necessity which attaches to our 
idea of cause. When we see an event, Ave not only 
see that it has a cause, but that it must have a cause. 

We see that a cause is necessary because it is 
necessary, just as we see that a raven is black be- 
cause it is black. That every event "imtst have a 
cause, is a truth v/hich the human mind can cognize ; 
that the raven is black, is also a truth which the 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 143 

human mind can cognize; and there is no more diffi- 
culty or mystery in tlie one case than in the other. 

The law or fact of causation is sometimes inaccu- 
rately stated, and needless difficulties have thus heen 
caused. " As the doctrine of causation is sometimes 
stated," says McCosh, " it might appear as if we 
were required, in following the chain of cause and 
effect, to go back ad infinitwn. It is said in a loose 
way, that every object must have a cause ; and then, 
as this cause must also have a cause, it might seem as 
if ^we were compelled to go on forever from one link 
to another. In particular, it might appear as if we 
could never legitimately argue from the law of cau- 
sation in favor of this world being caused ; for, if 
the law of cause and effect be universal, then we 
must seek for a cause, not only of the world, but of 
the Being who made the world ; and if it be not uni- 
versal, then it is conceivable that this world may be 
one of the things that are not caused. This is an 
objection urged with great confidence by Kant ; and 
a large school of metaphysicians seem to think that 
it is fatal to any argument in favor of the Divine ex- 
istence derived from human intelligence, as in every 
such argument the law of causation must enter as an 
element. Kant endeavors to escape from the dismal 
consequences in which he felt himself being en- 
gulfed, by declaring that the law of 9ause and effect, 
which thus required an infinite fegressits^ was a law 
of thought and not of things, and by calling in a 



144 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

moral argument (which argument has again been 
assailed by the very objections which Kant directed 
against the speculative argument ; for if our intelli- 
gence be a delusion, why may not our moral convic- 
tions also be so ?) ; while a large body of thinkers 
appealed to some sort of mysterious faith which will 
not submit to be examined, or even expressed. But, 
with all deference to these bold asseverations, I main- 
tain that if only this cc^smos'^can be shown to bear 
marks of being an effect, the argument from causa- 
tion can carry us up to a*'supermundane'5<3ausef'while 
it does not require us to go back to a cause of that 
cause. All inquiry into causation conducts us to 
substance ; but it does not compel us to go on fur- 
ther, or to go on forever. The law of causality does 
insist that the world, as an effect, must have a cause 
in a Being possessing power; and if, on inquiring 
into the nature of that Being, we have reason to 
believe that He or it must be an effect, it would in- 
sist on our going on to look out for a further cause. 
But if, on the other hand, w^e find no signs of that 
Being who made the w^orld being an effect, our intui- 
tion regarding causation would be entirely satisfied 
in looking on that Being as uncaused, as self-existent, 
as having power in Himself. It thus appears that 
this difficulty, which has puzzled so many, has arisen 
entirely from a misapprehension and perversion of 
the law of causation, commencing with Hume, and 
presented in a new form by Kant." 



CAUSE AND EFFECT. 145 

Nearly allied to the maxim, Every event must 
have an adequate cause, is the maxim, Like causes 
produce like effects. This principle lies at the foun- 
dation of our belief in the uniformity of the course 
of nature. Some of the Scotch philosophers refer 
our belief in the uniformity of nature to an original 
principle. Reid says : " God hath implanted in hu- 
man minds an original principle, by which we believe 
and expect the continuance of those connections 
which we have observed in times past." 

This is a very incautious statement. If the 
human mind is made to believe that the course of 
nature is uniform— that is, if this belief is original 
and instinctive — then the human mind cannot believe 
a miracle, however well attested, since a miracle is 
a deviation from the uniform course of nature. If 
this principle be implanted in the minds of all men, 
it will be found in the minds of those who shall live 
when the world's -history is about to be closed. 
Hence they will be led by a divinely implanted prin^ 
ciple to believe what is not true ! 

It is a self-evident truth, that the same or similar 
causes, under the same or similar conditions, will pro- 
duce the same or similar effects. Hence, so lono- as 
the present causes are in operation, the course of 
nature will be uniform. ^ When new causes come into 
operation, changes will take place. We have ob- 
served that events have followed each other with 3 
1 



146 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

certain nniformity, and hence we infer that, so long 
as present causes continue to operate, events will suc- 
ceed each other with a like uniformity. We expect 
causes to remain as they are, till we have some rea- 
son to suppose that there will be a change. 



CHAPTER XVIIL 

COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 

The mind can cognize beauty. We turn our eyes 
in winter toward the trunk and leafless brandies of 
a tree; we cognize its existence and form. We 
turn our eyes in spring toward the tree in full 
bloom, and we cognize the additional fact that it is 
beautiful. We turn our eyes upward in a clear night : 
we cognize the fact that the stars studding the blue 
vault are beautiful. We hear a strain of music, and 
cognize the fact that it is beautiful. We witness an 
act of self-sacrificing affection, and cognize the fact 
that it is beautiful. We cognize objects that are use- 
ful, objects that are injurious, and objects that are 
beautiful. Our cognitions of beauty are as distinct 
from our cognitions of the useful, as are our cognitions 
of the injurious. 

Beauty appertains to objects animate and inani- 
mate, material and spiritual; to feelings, thoughts, 
and actions. It would be as impossible to make an 
exhaustive enumeration of beautiful objects, as to 
make an exhaustive enumeration of true propositions. 



148 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

How do Ave know that the objects we call beauti- 
ful, are beautiful ? Just as we know that the propo- 
sitions we call true, are true. We know that the 
mind has poA^er to cognize truth and beauty, because 
it does cognize truth and beauty. When we perceive 
the rainbow, we perceive its beauty. We have a di- 
rect, intuitive cognition of the beauty of many objects. 
In regard to every kind of knowledge, we must rely 
upon our primary cognitions, or we are at once with- 
out any ground of certainty. If things are not as we 
cognize them to be, then there is an end to all knowl- 
edge. Universal skepticism is the result. 

The human mind is not infallible. It may err in 
its cognitions. One may think a proposition to be 
true when it is not, and one may think an object 
beautiful when it is not. But there are propositions 
relating both to truth and beauty, in regard to which 
he is not liable to err. There are intuitive cognitions 
which are certain. How do we know them to be cer- 
tainly true ? We cognize the fact ; and we must rely 
upon the cognition, or fall into universal skepticism. 
Because the mind may err in certain cognitions, it 
does not follow that it may err in regard to all cog- 
nitions. 

Beauty, as we have seen, is varied, as well as 
truth ; that is, there are various things that are beau- 
tiful, and various things that are true. In what one 
thing do these diversified beautiful objects agree? 
The only answer that can be given to this question is, 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 149 

that they agree in being beautiful. The idea of beauty 
is a simple idea, and cannot be analyzed. 

Writers have nevertheless attempted to analyze 
it, and to discover in what beauty consists. Different 
qualities or facts have been named by different wri- 
ters as constituting the beautiful. The qualities thus 
set forth belong to some beautiful objects, but not to 
all. " Some have thought," says Cousin, " to find 
the beautiful in proportion ; and this is, in fact, one 
of the conditions of beauty, but it is not the only 
one." * ♦ ♦ " What makes the terrible beauty 
of a storm ? what makes that of a great picture, of 
an isolated verse, or a sublime ode ? " The remark 
above quoted applies to all attempts to state in what 
the beautiful consists. 

In truth, there is no such thing as the beautiful 
apart from beautiful objects. Beauty is not an inde- 
pendent entity. It is a quality of objects, and of re- 
lations between objects. Beauty is a general term, 
standing for that in which ail beautiful objects agree ; 
just as truth is a general term, standing for that in 
which all true propositions agree. 

Cousin affirms : " Truth, beauty, and goodness are 
attributes, not entities. Now, there is no attribute 
without a subject. And as here the question is con- 
cerning absolute truth, beauty, and goodness, their 
substance can be nothing else but the absolute Being. 
It is thus we arrive at God." 

Has Cousin come any nearer telling us what beauty 



150 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

is, than those who say it consists in proportion ? To 
afSrm that beauty is an attribute of God, is simply to 
aiBrm that God is beautiful. When we say wisdom 
is an attribute of God, we simply affirm that God is 
wise — we do not explain what wisdom is. It may 
safely be affirmed that the Divine character is beauti- 
ful ; but that is not explaining in what beauty con- 
sists. 

Professor Haven affirms that "The true, the beauti- 
ful, and the good exist as simple, absolute, eternal 
principles. They are in the Divine mind. They are 
in the Divine works. They are in a sense independent 
of Deity. He does not create them. He cannot re- 
verse or change their nature. He works according to 
them. They are not created by, but only manifested 
in what God does." 

Is this a successful attempt to tell us what beauty 
is ? It is, according to our author, the manifestation 
of a simple, absolute, eternal principle existing in the 
Divine mind. Is it certain that there is any informa- 
tion contained in these vfords? What kind of a 
principle is this principle of beauty ? Wherein does 
it differ from the principle of truth ? What proof is 
there that the principle of beauty is a simple, abso- 
lute, and eternal principle in the Divine mind, any 
more than the principle of form, or of extension ? 

It is said that beauty is the manifestation of the 
Divine nature. It is true, and so are all God's works 
the manifestation of His nature — of His character ; 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 151 

that is, they show what He is. We have no reason 
to suppose that beauty is, in a peculiar sense, the 
manifestation of the Divine nature. God is the author 
of all created beauty; but the fact that God has 
created a thing does not prove that it is identical in 
nature with Him ; ^. 6., that it is a part of Himself. 
He created matter, but matter is no part of the Divine 
nature. 

It is useless to attempt to say what beauty and 
truth are, except by saying that they are beauty and 
truth. Attempts to go beyond this, and to affirm 
that they are principles in the Divine mind, convey 
no definite ideas, and have a pantheistic tendency. 

It may not be amiss to notice in this connection 
the not infrequent expression, " God is the principle 
of truth." What is the meaning of the expression? 
Is it that He is the author and source of all truth ? 
Did He create space and its relations, and originate 
the difference between right and wrong ? Was there 
ever a time when the difference between right and 
wrong did not exist ? Will it be said that " his 
Being embraces all truth" ? Is it not proper to ask 
for the meaning of that expression ? 

Christ is said to be the truth; but that does not 
mean that truth and the Divine existence are the 
same. God is said to be love; but love and the 
Divine existence are not the same. God is also said 
to be a consuming fire : but a consuming fire and the 
Divine existence are not the same. 



152 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Christ is said to be the truth, because the truths 
relating to him are to man the most important of all 
truths. In comparison with the truths which are 
able to make us wise unto salvation, all scientific and 
political truths are of little value. 

These remarks in regard to the principle of truth, 
apply in all respects to the principle of beauty. 

It is affirmed by some that all beauty is the ex- 
pression of mental qualities. There is a beauty of 
expression. A countenance whose features are plain, 
not to say ugly, beams vv^ith an expression of benev- 
olence, and is therefore beautiful. A delicate lily is 
beautiful. It suggests the idea of woman's delicacy 
and purity. It is remotely analogous to woman's 
delicacy and purity. A distinction is to be made 
between the signs of a thing and an analogy between 
two things. We have found from experience that 
certain things signify the presence of other things. 
We have also found that certain things are analogous. 
This distinction is overlooked by those who would 
refer all beauty to expression. 

Much of the beauty of the human countenance 
is the beauty of expression, and depends, not on the 
form and coloring of the features, but upon the con- 
dition of the mind. The condition of the indwelling 
mind vfill give expression to the countenance. One 
cannot change the structure of his features, but he 
can change the condition of his mind. Let him aim 
to form a beautiful mind, and so far as he succeeds, it 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 153 

will appear in the expression of his countenance and 
person. ^. 

Association has a great influence on our opinions 
in regard to beauty. It has, in some instances, power 
to reverse our ideas as to the beauty of an object. 
An object, an article of dress, for example, when first 
seen by us, may appear to us the reverse of beautiful ; 
but when we have seen it worn by those whose opin- 
ions we are accustomed to respect — when it has be- 
come the fashion — we come to regard it as beautiful. 
In consequence of association, some objects are re- 
garded in some countries as beautiful, which are 
regarded as ugly in other countries. In consequence 
of the diversities of opinion in regard to beauty, 
caused by association, some have referred all beauty 
to association. They deny that there is any such 
thing as intrinsic beauty — that there are any objects 
originally adapted to produce ideas of beauty. They 
affirm that the power now possessed by some objects 
to awaken in our minds ideas and emotions of beauty, 
is wholly owing to association. 

To such it is sufficient to say, that association will 
account for the transfer of the idea of beauty from 
one object to another, but cannot account for the 
origin of the idea. The idea of beauty must either be 
innate, or some object must have an original adapta- 
tion to produce it ; that is, there must be some object 
beautiful in itself. 

Association controls oftentimes our opinions of 
1* 



154 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

beauty, but never controls our intuitive cognitions 
of beauty. There are objects whose beauty all men 
cognize intuitively. The rainbow, the flower of bright 
hues, the stars, are regarded as beautiful by all who 
have the ordinary attributes of humanity. When we 
pass from the sphere of intuition, and proceed to form 
judgments, opinions, on matters pertaining to beauty, 
we are liable to err, as in regard to all other subjects. 
Hence diversities of opinion in regard to beauty exist, 
just as diversities of opinion in regard to government 
exist. This does not prove that beauty is wholly 
subjective, and that one man's judgments are as good 
as another's. There are truths relating to beauty, 
just as there are truths relating to numbers ; that is, 
there are truths aesthetic and truths mathematical. The 
mind's modes of procedure in cognizing these kinds of 
truth are similar. It cognizes some truths intuitively, 
and others by the aid of truths previously known. 

All men possess the power of cognizing beauty ; 
but all men do not possess this power in the same 
degree. All men can cognize mathematical truth, 
but some men can cognize it with greater clearness 
and rapidity than others. 

The actual differences among men as to their 
power of cognizing beauty are owing to two causes. 
There is an original difference in the structure of their 
minds. Some men have by nature a keener sense of 
beauty than others. Then some men have the power 
of perceiving beauty more fully developed by educa- 



COGNITIOK OP BEAUTY. 155 

tion — hj the education of instruction or the education 
of circumstances. 

There is a greater difference among men in their 
power of perceiving beauty than in their power of 
perceiving truth — especially truth in relation to prac- 
tical matters. Men are compelled by circumstances 
to exercise their pov/ers in perceiving truth more 
than in perceiving beauty. Hence the power of per- 
ceiving truth is more fully developed. 

The cognition of beauty is not a sensational cog- 
nition. By smell and taste we have, or may have, 
agreeable sensations. By the eye and ear we cog- 
nize beauty, w^hich cognition is followed by or at- 
tended with a peculiar emotion, separable in thought 
from the cognition. An agreeable sensation — that is, 
an agreeable feeling localized in some part of the 
body — is one thing ; an emotion, such a^ the emotion 
of beauty — -a purely mental act — is another. The 
feeling of beauty, if the expression be allowed, is 
not a sensational feeling. When we look at the 
heavens or the waving wheat field, or listen to the 
gsolian harp, the enjoyment is not localized in the 
eye and ear. The enjoyment is as purely mental as 
that resulting from perceiving a neat^ demonstration 
in geometry. 

The emotion of beauty is a simple emotion, which 
cannot be described or analyzed, and can be known 
only by being felt. It is conditioned on the cogni- 
tion of a beautiful object, or the presence of the idea 



156 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of beauty in the mind. If we choose to call the 
mind's power of cognizing and enjoying beauty the 
aesthetic faculty, the acts of said faculty may be 
regarded as complex — composed of a cognition and 
an emotion. 

Minds are differently constituted as to power to 
perform the different elements of this complex act. 
In some the perceptive and in others the emotive 
element predominates. Some men have clearer and 
more discriminative perceptions of beauty, and oth- 
ers have a deeper susceptibility in view of it. 

Is there a standard of beauty, or of taste — 
an aesthetic yard-stick — something with which we 
compare objects, and judge them to be beautiful or 
not, according as they agree or disagree with it ? Is 
every cognition of beauty a judgment, the result of 
comparison ? 

Some of our cognitions of beauty are direct, in- 
tuitive, and hence do not involve the process of com- 
parison. In such cases, there can be no reference to 
a standard. Some of our cognitions are conditioned 
upon other cognitions, and may be said to be the 
result of comparison; that is, the process of com- 
parison is among the conditions of the cognition. 
But in these cases there is no one idea or standard 
with which the object in question is compared. 

There is what may be called a practical standard 
of taste, by which all are in some degree influenced. 
The books, statues, pictures, and edifices which have 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 157 

received the approbation and admiration of all culti* 
vated minds, form a practical standard of taste. 
When a new work appears, we often unconsciously 
compare it with works of established reputation, and 
form our judgment accordingly. 

While a due regard should be paid to authority, 
it should not be allowed to interfere with the forma- 
tion of independent literary judgments f nor should 
one's freshness and originality be impaired by a too 
scrupulous conformity to the models furnished by 
standard authors and artists. 

God designed that men should perceive and enjoy 
beauty. This appears from the fact that He has been 
profuse in the creation of beauty, and has given man 
capacity to perceive and enjoy it. Hence it is man's 
duty to cultivate his power of cognizing beauty. 

It is cultivated by exercise. The choicest speci- 
mens of beauty in nature and art should be studied, 
that the mind's power of cognizing beauty may be 
improved. 

The wise artist does not study his> model that he 
may practise a servile imitation. He studies it to 
heighten his sense of the beautiful — that is, to im- 
prove his power of perceiving beauty — ^that he may 
form higher conceptions which he may strive to 
realize. 

The study of beauty has a tendency to refine and 
ennoble the mind. Rightly conducted, it is favor- 
able to morals, though there is no necessary connec- 



i- 



158 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

tion between a fine taste and good morals. They 
have often been dissociated. There have been men 
of fine taste and of corrupt morals. Their corrupt 
morals were not the consequence of their fine taste. 
Whatever elevates the mind tends to good morals, 
though that tendency may be counteracted by other 
causes. 

Our Puritan fathers erred in dissociating beauty 
from religion. In avoiding the Romish idolatry of 
worshipping the beautiful, they went to the opposite 
extreme. Hence the absence of all decoration in 
their places of worship, and the formation of a char- 
acter in which the aesthetic element was sadly want- 
ing. God's works are beautiful, and hence :?aan's 
works dedicated to God's service should be beautiful. 
" Beauty and strength are in thy sanctuary." There 
is a beauty of holiness which, in one sense, includes 
all other beauty. God's children should not ignore 
the beauty which their Father has taken so much 
pains to create. 

There are certain emotions that are sometimes 
called emotions of taste. These are the emotions of 
beauty, grandeur, sublimity, and the ludicrous. The 
emotion of grandeur is nearly allied to the emotion 
of beauty. An object which has none of the ele- 
ments of beauty would scarcely be called a grand | 
object. An object may be sublime without being at 
all beautiful. 

All the emotions of taste are simple emotions, 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 159 

and can be known only from experience. The emo- 
tion of sublimity is more intense and transient than 
the emotion of beauty. There are fewer objects in 
nature, and fewer thoughts, that awaken it. There 
are more beautiful than sublime writers. 

Is there any such thing as sublimity apart from 
the emotion ? The emotion is always preceded by a 
cognition or conception as its cause, and we call the 
object of that cognition or conception sublime. In 
what the sublimity of objects consists, cannot be 
told. There are certain objects that are sublime be- 
cause they produce a certain effect on our minds. In 
some cases this effect may be owing to association ; 
but there must be some objects originally adapted to 
produce the emotion, or we could never have it. We 
give the name of sublimity to that in an object, 
whatever it may be, which produces the emotion of 
sublimity. 

What is wit ? That which produces a peculiar 
effect when cognized, which effect we term the emo- 
tion of the ludicrous. We can no more tell in what 
wit consists, than we can tell in what truth consists. 
Attempts to reduce it to a single principle or charac- 
teristic have failed. A great variety of thoughts 
and relations are witty. 

The lowest form of wit is termed hufiior, and 
may be possessed by one by no means remarkable for 
intellectual power. The higher forms of wit require 
a nice discrimination, which is alliqd to intellect- 



160 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ual power. It has sometimes been said that wit and 
judgment never meet in the same person. The ques- 
tion is one to be determined by observation. 

Wit and judgment — that is, the capacity for cog- 
nizing the relations of the ludicrous, and capacity for 
cognizing the relations necessary to come to sound 
conclusions— are not allied in the sense that the pres- 
ence of the one indicates the presence of the other. 
A man may have a sound practical judgment, and 
be almost wholly incapable of cognizing ludicrous 
relations ; but, on the other hand, I think it will be 
found that the person who has wit in its highest 
power — that is, power to cognize those relations 
which constitute the highest form of wit — will have 
power to cognize the relations necessary to the for- 
mation of sound opinions. 

The fine arts, painting, poetry, music, sculpture, 
architecture, and gardening, have for their basis 
man's aesthetic nature — that is, his power of cognizing 
and enjoying beauty. They are said to be addressed 
to the eye and ear ; but properly speaking, they are 
addressed to the mind. They should receive due at- 
tention from all who would give to their minds a full 
and harmonious development. 

Beauty should be studied in subordination to truth 
and goodness. " The effect of the Beautiful upon the 
soul," says Professor Shedd, "when unmixed, un- 
counteracted, and exorbitant, is enervation. . . . When 
the sesthetical prevails over the intellectual and moral, 



COGNITION OF BEAUTY. 161 

the prime qualities, the depth, the originality, and 
the power die out of letters, and the mediocrity that 
ensues is but poorly concealed by the elegance and 
polish thrown over it. Even when there is much 
genius and much originality, an excess of Art, a too 
deep suffusion of beauty, a too fine flush of color, is 
often the cause of a radical defect." 

In further proof of his viewSi, he refers to " John 
Milton, one of those two minds which tower high 
above all others in the sphere of modern literature. 
If there ever was a man in v/hom the aesthetic was in 
complete subjection to the intellectual and moral, 
without being in the least suppressed or mutilated by 
them, that man was Milton. If there ever was a 
human intellect so entirely master of itself, of such a 
severe type, that all its processes seem to have been 
the pure issue of discipline and law, it was the intel- 
lect of Milton. In contemplating the grandeur of the 
products of his mind, we are apt to lose sight of the 
mind itself, and of his intellectual character. If we 
rightly consider it, the discipline to which he sub- 
jected himself, and the austere style of intellect and 
of art in which it resulted, are as worthy of the rev- 
erence and admiration of the scholar as the 'Paradise 
Lost.' We have unfortunately no minute and de- 
tailed account of his every-day life ; but from all that 
we do know, and from all that we can infer from the 
lofty, colossal culture and character in which he comes 
down to us, it is safe to say that Milton must have 



162 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PIIIIOSOPHT, 

subjected his intellect to a restraint, and rigid dealing 
with its luxurious tendencies, as strict as that to 
which Simeon Stylites or St. Francis of Assisi sub- 
jected their bodies. We can trace the process, the 
defecating, purifying process, that went on in his in- 
tellect, through his entire productions. The longer 
he lived, and the more he composed, the severer be- 
came his taste, and the more grandly and serenely 
beautiful became his works. It is true that the 
theory of art, and of culture, opposed to that which 
we are recommending, may complain of the occasional 
absence of beauty, and may charge as a fault an un- 
due nakedness and austerity of form. But one thing 
is certain, and must be granted by the candid critic, 
that whenever the element of Beauty is found in Mil- 
ton, it is found in absolute purity. That severe re- 
fining process, that test of light and fire, to which all 
his materials w^ere subjected, left no residuum which 
was not perfectly pure. And therefore it is, that 
throughout universal literature, a more absolute 
Beauty, and a more delicate aerial grace, are not to 
be found than appear in the ' Comus,' and the Fourth 
Book of ' Paradise Lost.' " 



CHAPTER XIX. 



COGNITION OF KECTITUDE. 



We see a person inflicting a severe Wow upon an 
unofiending stranger. We cognize by the eye the 
blow and its physical efiects. We also cognize the 
fact that it was wrong. When we say that the blow 
was wrong, we mean that the person did wrong in 
giving the. blow. 

Will any one ask. How do we know that the blow 
was wrong ? We know it, just as we know that the 
blow was struck. We saw the blow, and saw that it 
was wrong. In both cases it was the mind that saw. 
If we can trust the mind's cognitive power in regard 
to the blow, we can trust it in regard to the moral 
character of the blow. 

We see a man in danger of drowning. Another 
rescues him. We see the act, and we also see that it 
is right. 

We see one giving another money. We do not 
know whether the act is right or wrong. If it be in 
payment for goods purchased, it is right ; if it be 
given in bribery, it is wrong. In this case, the cog- 
nition of the moral character of the act is not direct, 



164 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

as in the former cases. It is conditioned upon a cog- 
nition of the motive of the giver. 

In simple and clear cases, the cognition of the 
moral character of an action is intuitive ; in complex 
cases, the cognition is inferential — that is, is condi- 
tioned on preceding cognitions. Hence, in complex 
cases, there is liability to error : different minds may 
come to different conclusions as to the moral character 
of an act. 

There is thus a difference between right and 
wrong. We know that there is a difference between 
right and wrong actions, just as we know that there 
is a difference between white and black objects : we 
cognize the fact in both cases. Nothing is gained 
by saying that reason makes known to us the dis- 
tinction ; for reason is not something distinct from 
us — our minds. We may ascribe some acts of the 
mind to reason and some to the understanding ; but 
if the mind is one, those terms simply express different 
modes of its action. When the mind is cognizing 
contingent truth, it is said by some to be exercising 
the understanding ; when it is cognizing necessary 
truth, it is said to be exercising the reason. The real 
distinction relates to the nature of the truth cognized. 

Some seem to think that the mind does not arrive 
at truth in regard to morals in the same Avay in which 
it arrives at truths in regard to agriculture and poli- 
tics. A special organ must be constructed and 
endowed with infallibility. Reason or conscience 



COGNITION OF RECTITUDE. 165 

must be endowed with powers transcending other 
faculties, that it may make known to us the difference 
between right and wrong, and authoritatively tell us 
our duty. Numerous errors in regard to the elements 
of morality have resulted from this personification of 
reason and conscience. 

It may be asked, " Has not man a conscience to 
make known to him his duty ? " 

What is meant by the expression, "Man has a 
conscience"? Simply that man has the power of cog- 
nizing right and wrong actions. The mind can cog- 
nize right and its opposite ; man has a conscience ; 
the mind possesses a moral faculty : all these are 
identical expressions. 

It may be said, " All men do not agree in their 
views of right and wrong. If man is endowed with 
a moral faculty — ^if conscience is possessed by all men — 
then all men would have the same views as to moral 
questions. Sight is possessed by all men, and hence 
all men agree in distinguishing black from white. 
There are no instances in which some men contend 
that white is black ; but there are frequent examples 
of men differing in regard to the same action — some 
regarding it as right and others as wrong." 

The inference thus drawn is not legitimate. It 
does not follow from the premise, " All men are en- 
dowed Avith the power of cognizing the difference 
between right and wrong,*' that all men will agree 
in regard to the moral character of all actions. The 



166 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

inference as drawn by the objector is founded on the 
assumption, that if the mind has power to cognize the 
moral qualities of actions, it must be infallible in the 
exercise of that power. This assumption is unauthor- 
ized. The mind is not infallible in any of its mediate 
cognitions. Men have the power of distinguishing 
truth from falsehood. They know that the assertion, 
" The whole is greater than its part," is true, and that 
the assertion, "The whole is less than its part," is false. 
But the fact that the mind has thus power to cognize 
truth, does not prove that its cognitions of truth must 
in all case be infallible, and that all men will think 
alike on all questions relating to truth. 

Some truths are simple and self-luminous. In 
regard to such truths all men agree in their cogni- 
tions. Some truths or questions are complicated, 
and can be cognized only through the medium of 
other truths. Hence there is liability to error. Hence 
there will be diversities of judgments. But diver- 
sities of opinion in regard to what is true and false in 
certain cases, do not prove that the mind has not the 
power to cognize truth — do not prove that there 
is no diiference between truth and error. In like 
manner, diversities of opinion in regard to what is 
right and wrong in certain cases, do not prove that 
the mind has not power to cognize rectitude — do not 
prove that there is no difference between right and 
wrong. 

Every one is conscious that he has power to cog- 



COGJSriTION OF RECTITUDE, 167 

nize rectitude — that is, to cognize the moral quality 
of actions. How does he know that others have this 
power — that it is an attribute of humanity ? 

He infers from the actions of others that they have 
this power. 

How does he know that men in other lands and in 
other ages possessed this power ? 

The proof of the fact is found in the structure of 
every language and in every historic record. In 
every language there are words expressive of right 
and wrong, of obligation, of praise and blame. 
Words are expressive of ideas : the people using 
those languages had ideas of right and wrong, of 
obligation, of praise and blame — that is, had the 
power of cognizing the moral quality of actions. 
Every code of laws that has come down to us, re- 
cognizes moral distinctions. There have been unjust 
laws ; yet the statutes of all nations have a wonderful 
agreement in forbidding that which is wrong and 
allowing that which is right. 

The approbation which the heroes of history have 
received, is based on the supposed possession of good 
qualities. Bad men have been honored, but not be- 
cause they were bad. 

Conscience, then, is an original attribute of our 
nature ; in other words, all men have the power of 
cognizing the moral qualities of actions. The mind 
is not infallible in the exercise of this power. It may 
form erroneous conclusions in regard to duty, and it 



168 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

may form erroneous conclusions in regard to ques- 
tions of political economy. 

In regard to some actions, all men's cognitions are 
the same. In regard to some actions, the cognition 
of the moral quality is intuitive. All men's intuitions 
in regard to a given truth are the same. In other 
words, some truths are self-evident, and in regard to 
such truths all men agree. The axioms of geometry 
are self-evident, and all men agree that they are true. 
There are self-evident truths in morals. In regard to 
these all men agree. 

That benevolence is right and malignity is wrong, 
are self-evident truths. In regard to such truths, the 
cognitions of all men are the same. It is not affirmed 
that all men would assent to the generalized state- 
ment that malignity is wrong ; but let an act of 
wanton, unprovoked malignity be witnessed, and all 
men would see that it is wrong. Let an act of true 
benevolence be witnessed, and all men would approve 
it as right. Differences of opinion, as has been before 
remarked, may take place in complicated cases, where 
the steps taken to reach the conclusion are numerous, 
and depending upon truths which may be imperfectly 
apprehended. White and black are clearly distin- 
guishable by all men when white and black objects 
are before them, and so of other colors. But let two 
colors be blended, as in the structure of the rainbow, 
and it is difficult to say where one color ends and the 
other begins. If men were required to state which 



COGNITION OF RECTITUDE. 169 

color predominated at a particular point, there would 
be diversities of opinion, though there would be 
none as to the difference between the two colors. So 
the difference between right and wrong is clearly 
seen in simple cases. In complicated ones, there will 
be diversities of opinion. 

In what does rectitude consist? What consti- 
tutes a right action ? We have seen that we cannot 
answer similar questions asked with reference to 
truth. We cannot tell in what truth consists ; we 
cannot tell what constitutes a true proposition. We 
are in the same condition in relation to these ques- 
tions when asked with reference to rectitude. When, 
with respect to a particular act, it is asked, What 
constitutes its Tightness ? we may be able to give an 
answer. For example: I see one giving money tc 
relieve a person in distress. The act is a right one. 
Why is it right ? Because kindness to the distressed 
— ^benevolence — is right. On what does the Tightness 
of benevolence depend? It may be said that it is 
right because God commands it. With reverence be 
it asked, on what does the lightness of God's com 
mand depend ? A number of questions may be asked, 
but the point to which we shall be brought is a 
confession of our inability to state in what right 
consists. 

It will be asked. Does not the Tightness of an action 
consist in its tendency to promote happiness ? The 
Tightness of a particular action may be made known 
8 



170 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

to US by its tendency to promote happiness ; but the 
question may be asked, Why is it right to promote 
happiness ? 

The followers of Paley and Bentham affirm that 
the moral difference betY>^een actions is founded 
•wholly on their tendency to promote happiness or 
misery. Those actions which tend to promote happi- 
ness are right, and right on that account alone ; and 
those actions which tend to cause misery are wrong, 
and wrong on that account alone. The question, 
Why are actions tending to happiness right ? re- 
mains unanswered. 

We may admit that right actions tend to promote 
happiness ; but it does not prove that their rightness 
consists in this tendency. In many cases, we intui- 
tively cognize an act to be right before we take the 
consequences into view — when we are wholly igno- 
rant of the consequences. The mind clearly distin- 
guishes between utility and rightness. These are 
not identical. Let the appeal be made to conscious 
ness. 

If the theory under consideration were true, then 
if murder, malignity, and treason were followed by 
the greatest amount of happiness, they would be 
right. This conclusion, so diametrically opposed to 
our intuitive cognitions, is sufficient to show the un- 
soundness of the theory. 

Again, on this theory a system of morals would 
be impossible to one of less than infinite knowledge. 



COGNITION OF RECTITUDE. l7l 

Indeed, a finite mind conld never settle a single ques* 
tion of duty. We wish to know whether an action 
is right. If there is no difference in actions except in 
relation to their consequences, then we wish to know 
whether the action will be followed by more happi- 
ness than, misery during the whole duration of our 
being. Infinite knowledge would be required to 
determine whether the action is right or wrong ; and 
infinite knowledge is not ours. 

The tendency of an action to promote happiness 
no more constitutes its rightness, than the tendency 
of mathematical truths to utility constitutes their 
trueness. There are certain mathematical principles 
or truths useful to the engineer. Their tendency, if 
rightly applied, is to make his work secure. Their 
utility is a fact — a fact clearly distinguishable from 
their truth. Moral truths, rightly applied, are use- 
ful — render the structure of happiness stable ; but 
their utility is clearly distinguishable from their 
rightness. 

As it is conceded that we are under obligation to 
do right, if doing right consists in securing the great- 
est amount of happiness, then if we could secure 
more happiness by serving Satan than by serving 
God, we should be under obligation to do so ! 

Why are we under obligation to do right ? At- 
tempts have been made to answer this question — to 
give a reason for doing right — to prove that we 
ought to do right. The consequence has been, that 



172 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

obscurity has been thrown upon a subject naturally 
clear. This is always the consequence of attempts 
to prove self-evident truths. 

Why should we believe a true proposition when 
it is clearly set before the mind ? Because it is true. 
Why should we do right ? Because it is right. The 
obligation to do right is involved in the j)erception 
of right ; or it may be stated thus : It is a self-evident 
truth, that we are under obligation to do right. No 
truth clearer than this can be brought to prove it. 
We may state advantages following right doing, and 
disadvantages following wrong doing. But these 
facts only show that it is prudent to do right ; they 
do not add to the force of the obligation. 

It may be said that we should do right because 
God commands it. Undoubtedly all God's com- 
mands are right, and it is our duty to obey them. 
But the fact that it is right for us to obey God's 
commands, does not prove that God created the 
distinction between right and wrong — that things 
which are right are so simply because He commands 
us to do them. That which is created, is created in 
time — ^that is, at some time. Now, was there ever a 
time when malignity was right and benevolence 
wrong ? Has God always been just and holy ? Has 
He always been a hater of iniquity ? Then the dis- 
tinction between holiness and iniquity has always 
existed — there never was a time when it began 
to be. 



COG]SriTIOK OF EECTITUDE. 173 

The question, Why should we obey God's com- 
mand? remains as yet unanswered. The true an- 
swer is, because it is right to do so. It may be said, 
we should obey Him because He is our Creator. Why 
does the creature owe obedience to its Creator ? It 
will be said, because He made him. Suppose the 
maker of man were an unholy being, and command- 
ed man to practise iniqaity. Suppose man's moral 
nature to be as it now is, would it be right for man 
to practise iniquity ? If it would not, then the mere 
relation of Creator and creature does not of itself 
involve the duty of obedience on the part of the 
latter. Suppose — with reverence be it spoken — ^tliat 
God's commands should be the opposite of what they 
are; suppose He should command us to be sinful, 
would it be right for us to be sinful? We know 
that it is impossible for Him to command that which 
is not right, just as it is impossible for Him to lie ; 
but if it were possible, and were done, would not our 
obligation to obedience cease ? 

Will it be said. If God command me to murder 
a man, it would be right to do so ? If God were to 
command you to take ^he life of a man, it would be 
right for you to do so. But to take the life of a man 
in obedience to God's commands, is one thing ; and to 
take the life of a man with malice prepense and in 
violation of God's command, is another thing. The 
latter is murder, the former is not. 

God could not authorize murder. His perfections 



174 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

forbid it. He can authorize one to take the life of 
another. All souls are His, and He may dispose of 
them according to His righteous will. Whatever 
may be the case in regard to sinless beings, we have 
sinned, and forfeited our lives to His justice. He 
may therefore take our lives in any way that He 
chooses — by disease, or by the instrumentality of 
men. 

While God cannot change wrong into right, yet, 
whenever He commands us to perform an act, it be- 
comes moral, though before it was indifferent. In 
many cases it is a matter of indifference what kind 
of dress we wear ; we may wear this or that, with- 
out doing wrong. If God were to command us to 
wear a particular dress, it would be wrong for us not 
to do so. So far as there are actions without a moral 
character, they become moral and obligatory when 
commanded by Him. 

Men are under obligation to do what is right — 
not what they may think is right. It is a popular 
error, that sincerity in error changes the moral 
character of acts consequent upon that error. It is 
thought that if a man sincerely believes he is right, 
his action will be right. 

Sincerity in error in physical matters does not 
affect the consequences of the error. If a man build- 
ing a tower sincerely believes that he has so con- 
structed it that the line of gravity falls within the 
base, and yet it falls without the base, his sincerity 



COGNITION OF EECTITUDEo 175 

will not prevent the tower froDi falling. Sincerity in 
error will not reverse the law of gravitation. 

If a man intending to visit a city lying eastward, 
"by mistake takes a road leading northward, he 
may sincerely believe he is right, but he will not 
reach the desired city. Sincerity in error cannot 
change the point of compass. Can it change the 
supreme law of right, to which even God himself 
is subject ? 

A man may sincerely believe that he is doing 
God's will when he is going contrary to that will — 
as Paul thought he was doing God service when he 
was persecuting unto death the followers of Christ. 
It is true that failure to do God's will in such circum- 
stances may be attended with less guilt than when 
the failure is the result of wilful passion ; still, if one 
has acted contrary to God's will, he has done wrong. 
Thinking a thing to be right will not make it right, 
any more than thinking a thing to be true will make 
it true. It is singular that an error so transparent as 
that uinder consideration should have had so wide an 
influence. 

Intention to do right is not doing right ; it is a 
necessary condition of doing right. Intention to take 
the right road is not taking the right road ; nor does 
it of necessity lead to taking the right road. 

The right road may be taken by accident, but we 
can never do right by accident. 

It is said that the moral character of an act lies in 



176 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the intention. Intention is the condition of perform* 
ing a moral act, not the constituting quality of the 
act. Intention is used in two senses. Sometimes it 
means the motives prompting to action. Suppose the 
act to be the payment of a just debt. The act in 
itself is right ; but if the debtor pay it solely through 
fear of an arrest, he does not do his duty — does not 
do right. Here it is seen that in order to perform a 
right action, the act must be in itself right, and it 
must be performed from right motives. 

Intention is also used in the sense of volition. 
A man may conform to a physical law without in- 
tending to do it. A farmer, though ignorant of an 
important law of vegetation, may conform to it, and 
he will reap all the advantages resulting from con- 
formity to that law. But a purpose to obey, a volun- 
tary obedience to moral law, is essential; there can 
be no obedience in ignorance or by accident. We 
must know what the law is, and voluntarily conform 
to it. 

Moral qualities belong to actions. Actions are 
performed by the intelligent, accountable mind. The 
body is the instrument of the mind. Bodily changes, 
physical acts as they are sometimes termed, consid- 
ered apart from the mind, have no moral character. 
The motion of the limbs occasioned by the action of 
a galvanic battery has no moral character. The 
motion of the limbs as caused by the volitions of the 
mind has a moral character. The volitions are a 



COGNITIOK OF EECTITUDE. 177 

part of the mental act ; and the dispositions and de- 
sires leading to the volition are a part of the act, and 
come within the view of the mind, when it decides 
that the act is right or wrong. 

In order to a perfect moral action, the act its-elf, 
that is, the end sought to be eifected, must be right ; 
the intention must be right, and the action of mind 
and body must correspond with the intention. 

Some actions are intrinsically right-^for example, 
acts of honesty and benevolence : some actions are 
intrinsically wrong, such as acts of malignity and 
treachery. Some actions are neither right nor v/rong 
in themselves, but are right or wrong according to 
circumstances. It may not be wrong for me to sway 
my body backwards and forwards in my own study ; 
but it would be wrong for me to do so in the house 
of God during public worship. 

Is morality predicable of dispositions and habits 
as well as of voluntary actions ? Some affirm that 
morality is predicable only of voluntary actions ; but, 
in order to include all things plainly moral, they give 
an unauthorized extension to the term voluntary. 
They make it include our desires and affections. A 
man earnestly desires to exercise revenge upon an- 
other — earnestly desires to injure him. He puts 
forth no voluntary act designed to injure him, be- 
cause he has no opportunity. The desire is clearly 
distinguishable from a volition — an act of the wiM — 
that is, of the mind willing. Is the desire destitute 
8* 



178 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of a moral character ? Is it not as clearly wrong a? 
a volition causing a blow is wrong ? 

There may he thus virtuous and vicious desires* 
In like manner, there may be virtuous and vicious dis- 
positions and habits. 

Dispositions and habits are not acts, but condi- 
tions of mind causing acts, and determining their 
moral character. A man who is constantly perform- 
ing benevolent acts, forms a habit of benevolence. A 
man who is continually performing selfish acts, forms 
a habit of selfishness. These habits form a portion of 
the character of each. Is the character of the one 
praiseworthy, and the character of the other blame- 
worthy; or are our approbation and disapprobation 
confined to the voluntary actions ? 

I think the general sense of mankind attributes 
virtue and vice to dispositions and character as well 
as to strictly voluntary acts. It would be more 
correct to say that the moral character of our actions 
depends upon our dispositions, rather than that moral- 
ity is confined to our volitions. 

Men are under obligation to do right — to do right 
in all things and at all times. Have they power to 
do so ? Is man's ability commensurate with his 
obligation ? 

In his present fallen condition, man is not able to 
act with perfect uprightness — to be perfectly holy. 
He is fallible in his judgments, and. hence often fails 
to form right ideas as to his duty. We must know 



COGI^ITION OF RECTITUDE. 179 

our duty perfectly in order to perform it perfectly. 
In order to perfect holiness, there must be a per- 
fect knowledge of duty, and this man does not 

possess. 

Does man's ignorance of duty excuse him from 
performing it ? The answer depends upon the causes 
of his ignorance. If he is wilfully ignorant — ignorant 
because he will not use his powers aright — if he is 
misled by prejudice and passion, he is responsible for 
the causes of the ignorance, and consequently for the 
ignorance itself. 

Suppose man has a perfect knowledge of duty : 
has he ability to perform it perfectly — to be perfectly 
holy? : 

Man was originally endowed! with full power to 
do his whole duty — 1]0 be perfectly holy. But the 
Scriptures teach that by the fall and by his wilful 
transgressions his capacity for right doing has been 
lessened. It is conceded by all that a man, by form- 
ing sinful habits, diminishes his power to do right. 
He diminishes his power to see duty and to do it. Is 
his obligation to do right/ thereby lessened ? or may 
the moral Governor hold 1dm responsible for not doing 

all that he could have do/iie, if he had not lessened his 

/ 
moral power ?^ / 

Some think that, in/ this case, man is responsible 

only for what he has power to do — no matter how 

the lack of power waf/^ occasioned. They hold him 

punishable for the act 'of lessening his power, but not 

• / 



180 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

accountable for doing that whicli would have been 
his duty had he not lessened his power. 

To this it may be objected, that it makes God's 
claims dependent upon the will of the sinner. Just 
so far as the sinner lessens his power to do right, 
God's . claims to obedience are lowered. A new law 
must be made for the sinner every day; or rather, he 
makes a new law for himself! 

If, in proportion as the sinner lessens by sinning 
his moral power, God's claims to his obedience are 
lessened, then if he could destroy all his power to do 
right, God would have no claims to his obedience at 
all. He would be a subject of punishment, but not 
subject to the law of holiness. Is it reasonable to 
suppose that a man by sinning can place himself 
without the domain of God's law ? Is not God's 
law immutable and binding forever on every moral 
being ? 

We find that men are in fact unable to perfectly 
obey God's law ; and ye.^j God commands them to be 
holy as He is holy. It Avould seem, therefore, that 
God claims that which mail, in his fallen condition, is 
unable to perform. "We aro here met by a difficulty 
that human wisdom cannc>t solve. Men are born 
without the requisite power to render perfect obe- 
dience to God's law : their power is lessened still more 
by voluntary transgression ; but this is the result of 
a native tendency to evil. Wbence this strange con 
dition ? The Bible informs us that it is the result of 



COGKITION OF RECTITUDE. 181 

Adam's sin. Whether one accept the explanation or 
not, the difficulty still remains. 

The present disordered condition of the human 
mind, whether it he regarded as a consequence of 
Adam's sin, or whether it he regarded as the result 
of creation, is a mystery that the future may solve. 
At present it is one of those things in regard to which 
it may be said, " clouds and darkness are round about 
him." Still, this should never for a moment permit us 
to doubt the truth, that "justice and judgment are 
the habitation of his throne." We must not deny a 
well-established fact because we cannot give a satis- 
factory explanation of it. 

The difficulty above noted is in nowise chargeable 
to revealed religion. Man is as he is, whether the 
Bible be a revelation from God or not. Revelation 
proposes a remedial system, and in its perfect adapta- 
tion to fallen man is found one of the strongest ar- 
guments for its truth. 

Much is said about the duty of obeying the dic- 
tates of conscience : what is meant by tl e expres- 
sion ? Acting in accordance with our perceptions 
of right. 

Do we always do right when we obey con- 
science ? That is, do we always do right when we 
think we are doing right ? Are our moral judgments 
always correct ? Or doe^s our thinking a thing to be 
right, make it right ? 

To ask, Ought we always to obev cop^r^ienr-e ? is to 



182 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

ask. Ought we always to do wliat w^e think is right ? 
The reply to this is obvious. We are not to act con- 
trary to our convictions of duty ; but then our views 
of duty should be accurate. 

Suppose one fully believes it to be his duty to per- 
secute those whom he regards as heretics. In popular 
language, his conscience tells him he ought to do it. 
If he obeys his conscience, if he acts according to 
his erroneous convictions of duty, he does wrong ; for 
it is not God's will that any one should persecute 
others. If he disobeys his conscience, acts contrary 
to his erroneous conviction of duty, he does wrong. 
The wrong consists, it is said, in violating his con- 
science ; but this simply means that he refused to act 
in accordance with his convictions of duty. The 
wrong consists in acting contrary to what he believed 
to be the will of God. He believed it to be God's 
will that he should persecute ; but from tenderness of 
heart, or fear of public opinion, he declined to do 
what he believed to be God's will, and thus was 
guilty, in principle, of disobeying God — -just as a 
child may be guilty of disobedience to his parent, by 
refusing to do what he believed his parent com- 
manded, though that belief was erroneous. 

We see thus that a man, by entertaining wrong 
opinions, may be in a condition in which he will do 
wrong whether he acts or refrains from acting. Is he 
then to blame ? 

That depends on the causes of his being in that 



COGNITION OF EECTITUDE. 183 

position. If the cause was Ms neglect to investigate 
and understand the truth on which his duty was con- 
ditioned, he is of course responsible for being in that 
unhappy position. 

We are under obligation to have right views of 
duty, and to act in accordance with those views. 
Hence we see the importance of a knowledge of re- 
ligious truth, so much insisted on in the Scriptures. 
An orthodox creed is an essential condition of an or- 
thodox life. 

Are we to decide questions of duty for ourselves, 
or are we to defer to the judgment and authority of 
others ? Are we ever to act contrary to our con- 
victions of right from regard to the authority of 
others ? 

We have seen that one is under obligation to know 
his duty — to know it himself. Whatever aid he can 
get from others in arriving at true conclusions in regard 
to duty, he is under obligation to get ; but he cannot 
throw upon others the responsibility of deciding. 
He must act for himself, and therefore he must think 
for himself: thinking, in such cases, is not separable 
from action. Every one must give account of himself 
unto God. Priest or potentate cannot answer for 
him ; therefore they are not to decide questions of 
duty for him. 

It has been said by some men of great reputation, 
that in regard to religious matters a man's own con- 
science is to be his guide, but that in regard to civil 



184 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

matters the law of the land, and not conscience, is to 
be his guide. 

To say that a man's conscience is to be his guide 
in religious matters, is to say that he is to decide for 
himself what his duty is in regard to religion, and to 
do it. 

To say that the law, as distinguished from con- 
science, is to be one's guide in civil matters, is to say 
that one is to do what the law enjoins, whether he 
regards it as right, as according to the will of God, 
or not. 

This view implies a distinction in regard to human 
actions which does not exist. It is not true that some 
of our actions are religious, and others civil or sec- 
ular. God's will has respect to all our actions. 
Whether we eat or drink, or whatsoever we do, we 
are to do all to the glory of God — to do all with ref- 
erence to pleasing God. Acts pertaining to govern- 
ment have a moral character, are religious acts, as 
truly as acts pertaining to the public worship of God. 
It is God's will that men should worship Him : it is 
also His will that they should obey magistrates. In 
all things God's will is to be our guide. This is what 
is meant when it is said conscience should be our 
guide. 

Again, this view implies that rulers have the 
power of changing moral distinctions — if not of 
creating them. If the law is to be our guide, then 
whatever the law enjohas must be right. Suppose it 



COGNITION OF EECTITUDE. 185 

enjoins idolatry — are we to worship idols ? Can a 
legislature or a despot change the ten command- 
ments ? The apostles said, we ought to obey God 
rather than man. 

The true doctrine is plain. Government is a di- 
vine institution. It is our duty to obey all the laws, 
unless they come in conflict with the law of God. 
Every one must decide for himself whether in a given 
case there is a conflict or not. If the law commands 
him to do what is wrong, or what he thinks is wrong, 
he is to refuse to obey, and submit to the penalty. If 
it inflicts wrong upon him at the hand of others, he is 
to suffer it. without resistance; unless the oppression 
is so great as to justify a revolution — that is, a forci- 
ble overthrow of the oppressive government, and the 
establishing of another in its place. The fact that a 
law is unwise and unjust, does not authorize us to 
disobey it, or forcibly resist its execution. It is often 
our duty to suffer wrong. When the wrong is well- 
nigh intolerable, and there is a fair prospect that an 
attempt to overthrow the government and establish a 
better one would be successful, then a people are jus- 
tified in resorting to the right of revolution. 

Thus it may be our duty to submit to a govern- 
ment, for a time at least, which had its origin in in- 
justice and cruelty. The fact that we are com- 
manded to pay tribute to Caesar, does not prove that 
Caesar has a right to sway the sceptre of absolute 
authority, and that it would not be right to dethrone 



186 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

him if we had the power. The fact that a slave is 
commanded to obey his master, does not prove that 
the master has a right to his obedience. Rights and 
duties, when different persons are concerned, are not 
always reciprocal. It may be my duty to obey a 
highwayman till such time . as I can put a bullet 
through him. 

The view under consideration destroys the right 
of private judgment, and hence destroys personal ac- 
countability. Man is no longer responsible for his 
conduct in civil matters. His responsibility is thrown 
on the government. It may just as well be thrown 
on the priest or the fjope. 

This view was adopted in consequence of an il- 
logical conclusion drawn from the proposition, that 
every man should follow his convictions of duty in 
civil as well as religious matters. The conclusion 
was, that every man would be at liberty to do that 
which was right in his own eyes — that anarchy would 
be the result. One man would think that one law 
was wrong, and would disobey it ; and another, an- 
other : consequently, the authority of law would be 
at an end. 

Ko such conclusion can be legitimately drawn from 
the premises. Every man is under obligation to act 
according to his convictions of duty ; he is also under 
obligation to have his convictions of duty accurate. 
If his convictions are accurate, he vfill conscientiously 
obey all laws except those which are really in con- 



COGNITION 03^^ RECTITUDE. 187 

flict with the law of God, and no one will contend 
that any government can nullify the law of God. 
Suppose his convictions of duty are inaccurate — that 
he thinks that a law is opposed to the law of God 
when it is not : he will not obey it ; he will disobey, 
and suffer the penalty. He thus recognizes the au- 
thority of government. He makes no resistance to 
the laws. In fact, he renders a passive obedience to 
the law. Anarchy cannot take place where every 
law is either actively or passively obeyed — where 
every law is obeyed, or the penalty of non-obedience 
submitted to. 

Can conscience be perverted? That is, can the 
mind come to wrong conclusions in respect to duty ? 
Of course, as it is fallible, it may err in regard to ques- 
tions of duty as in regard to all other questions. The 
error may result from an inaccurate view of the facts 
of the case, or from an obtuseness of perception. 

The mind's power of cognizing duty may be im- 
paired by neglecting to exercise it aright. The sus- 
ceptibility of feeling may be in like manner decreased. 
Sin blinds the mind — ^lessens its discriminating power, 
and hardens the heart— renders the mind less suscep- 
tible of enjoyment or suffering, as duty is or is not 
performed. 

Can conscience be eradicated- — can the mind lose 
its power of cognizing moral distinctions, and its 
power of feeling remorse ? We have seen that by 
wrong doing the discriminating and emotive power 



188 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

may be impaired : can it be annihilated ? Can a 
man by sinning destroy his moral nature ? 

We have no reason to believe that such an event 
can take place. Conscience sometimes seems to slum- 
ber; that is, a man seems insensible to moral distinc- 
tions, and sins grievously without any apparent sense 
of guilt or remorse. But this slumber is often 
broken, and the mind seems to have all its discrimina- 
tion and moral sensibility restored. 

What is meant by the supremacy of conscience ? 
Simply, that we ought always to do right. Two 
plans of action are proposed : one will be productive 
of great pecuniary benefit, but will involve a course 
of wrong doing ; the other proposes that which is 
strictly right. Of the two, we should adopt the lat- 
ter : we were made to do right, and it can never be 
right to do wrong. We may say that one plan is 
dictated by the understanding, and the other by con- 
science, and thus be led to speak of a conflict between 
understanding and conscience ; but the conflict is be- 
tween the plans, not between two imaginary entities 
termed faculties. Both plans were apprehended by 
the mind. The mind sees that one is right, and the 
other wrong. 

To say that conscience should be carefully culti- 
vated, is to say that we should take the utmost pains 
to learn what is right, and to do it ; that we should 
seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. 



^ ^: (Prr ^yv%. i ^ . n 



/^'f^^l/^y^/ L ^z-t^ 



J^^^i^tcAZcU /^. 



CHAPTER XX. 



EEASOKING. 



ISTo mental process is more important than that of 
reasoning. Hence a clear explanation of it is de- 
sirable. 

To give an explanation or analysis of the process 
of reasoning, is to state what the mind does when it 
reasons. As all men frequently perform acts of rea- 
soning, it ought not to be difficult to, describe the 
acts thus performed. 

Reasoning is an act of the mind — not the act of a 
supposed faculty distinct from the mind, or forming 
a constituent portion of the mind. In regard to no 
mental process has personification been carried to 
greater excess than in regard to the process of reason- 
ing. Reason, or the reasoning faculty, has been en- 
dowed with nearly all the attributes of personality. 
It is said to inform the mind, to receive from the- 
senses facts and draw inferences from them ; it is 
said to fall into error, and to lead the mind astray. 
This unfortunate use of language has thrown needless 



190 ELEMEl^TS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

obscurity over the subject of reasoning. In consider- 
ing this subject, let the student forget, for the time 
being, the existence of faculties ; let him ignore the 
existence of Reason, and Judgment, and Comparison, 
and the like personages, and confine his attention to 
successive mental acts which constitute the process 
of reasoning. He will not find it to be so obscure 
and complicated a matter as it is commonly supposed 
to be. 

It is the mind which reasons, just as it is the 
mind that cognizes external objects and remembers. 
Reasoning is a cognizing act of the mind. We cog- 
nize by reasoning truths which were unknown to us 
before. Reasoning, then, is the mental process of 
cognizing unknown truths, by means of those that 
are known. We can attend to this process in a 
given instance, and state the successive steps. 

We have seen that some of our cognitions are 
direct, immediate, intuitive. Such are our cognitions 
of the existence of material objects, and of the self- 
evident truths termed axioms. But all our cogni- 
tions are not direct, immediate, intuitive. Our 
knowledge of some truths is conditioned upon our 
previous knowledge of other truths ; that is, we see 
some things to be true in consequence of having seen 
some other things to be true. This last method of 
seeing is reasoning. If we observe what the mind 
does — what its successive acts are when it sees a 
thing to be true because it has previously seen an- 



REASONING. 191 

other thing to be true — we shall observe the process 
of reasoning. 

We are not at liberty to assume that the process 
of reasoning is in all cases identical. The effect of 
so doing is a liability to warp our facts to suit the 
assumption. This assumption has sometimes been 
made by those attempting to give an analysis of the 
process of reasoning. The mind may have different 
modes of procedure in cognizing unknown truths by 
means of known truths. When we have observed 
the process in different circumstances, and in regard 
to a variety of truths, we may be prepared to affirm 
that the reasoning process is or is not identical in all 
cases. 

Before proceeding to consider an example of rea- 
soning, we would remind the student that all condi- 
tioned cognition is not reasoning. We have some 
direct, intuitive cognitions conditioned on a previous 
cognition. Thus, our cognition of space is condi- 
tioned on our cognition of body. Our cognition of 
power is conditioned upon our cognition of change 
in an object. We cannot be said to arrive at a 
knowledge of space and power by reasoning. They 
have the directness and universality characteristic of 
intuitions. 

Again, the cognition of certain relations is condi- 
tioned on previous cognitions. We cognize the re- 
semblance between two pillars. The cognition is 
conditioned upon the previous cognition of the pil- 



192 ELEMENTS OF INTEL^OECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

lars. Objects must be known before the relations 
between them can be known. Hence the cognition 
of certain relations, though conditioned on other cog- 
nitions, is not reasoning. 

This direct cognition of relations is generally- 
termed a judgment. Hence we hear of judgment 
and reasoning — ^of reasoning being made up of judg- 
ments. The > naming of an act does not alter its 
nature, though it may cause confusion in relation to 
it. The direct perception of the relation of similar- 
ity, superiority, equality, may be called a judgment, 
but it is no part of the process of reasoning — that is, 
of the process peculiar to reasoning. The term judg- 
ment is used in two senses : one, to express the cog- 
nition consequent upon comparing two objects ; the 
other, to express the decision which the mind comes 
to when it has considered the evidence favorable and 
adverse to a particular proposition. It would be 
well to confine the use of the word to the latter 
sense. 

Let us now examine some instances of reasoning, 
and observe the successive mental acts. Reasoning, 
as we have seen, is the mental process of cognizing 
unknown truths by means of those that are known. 

Suppose I am passing along the street, and see 
dilapidated walls and the charred remains of timber. 
I infer that a building has been destroyed by fire. 
The facts directly perceived are the crumbling walls 
and charred remains, and yet I know that there has 



eeasokhstCt. 193 

been a fire ttere. Using common language, I may 
sajr, I see there has been a fire there ; but through the 
agency of sense I see only the evidences of fire. The 
truth that there has been fire there, is not a sense- 
perception — is not a direct perception, but an infer- 
ence. It is a knowledge, however, and may have as 
much certainty attached to it as attaches to a direct 
perception. 

Suppose I had never witnessed the action of fire : 
could I, on seeing the ruins, infer that a building had 
been destroyed by fire ? Suppose I had witnessed 
the action of fire, but had entirely forgotten its 
effect : could I make the above inference from the 
sight of the ruins ? A condition of the inference, 
then, is recollected knov^edge. I infer that the pres- 
ent ruin is the effect of fire, because I have previously 
known that such is the effect of fire. The whole 
process of cognizing the fact that a fire destroyed 
the building, may be stated thus : 1. A sense-percep- 
tion of the ruins. 2, A recollection of the effects of 
fire previously known. 3. An inference from anal- 
ogy — illustrating the principle that like causes pro- 
duce like effects — that the present ruins were caused 
by fire. All that is peculiar to the process is infer- 
ring. This is conditioned on sense-perception and 
recollected knowledge. 

It may be said that I know from experience that 
the building was destroyed by fire. My experience 
is not experience pertaining to the case in. hand. I 
9 



194 ELEMENTS O:^ INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

have seen other buildings destroyed by fire. I did 
not see this building destroyed. Strictly speaking, I 
have had no experience in the matter. I have had 
experience in similar cases. How can I, then, decide 
that fire destroyed this building, because fire de- 
stroyed other buildings ? I answer, the mind does 
thus decide. We must accept the fact that the mind 
does thus cognize the existence of fire as the cause of 
the ruin in question, as we accept the fact that it 
cognizes the existence of material objects when pre- 
sented to the senses. Where the analogy is perfect, 
the cognition is one of certainty. 

It may be said that the mind, in making an ana- 
logical inference, proceeds upon the principle that like 
causes produce like effects. When it is said the mind 
proceeds upon a certain principle, the meaning is not 
very clear. If by the expression is meant that the 
procedure or act exemplifies a certain principle, the 
meaning is clear. But if it be meant that the con- 
clusion is an inference from the general fact, the 
meaning is not true. One sees a tree fall. He sees 
that there was some cause for its falling. But the 
truth that the fall of the tree had a cause, is not an 
inference from the general truth that every change has 
a cause. The cognition was intuitive. The mind, 
on seeino; the fall of the tree, and co2:nizino^ the fact 
that it must have had a cause, may be said to pro- 
ceed upon the principle that every effect must have a 
cause ; but the cognition is not an inference from, 



EEASONIN^G. 195 

but an exemplification of that principle. In like 
manner, the inference in the case under considera- 
tion is an exemplification of the truth, that like 
causes produce like effects. 

•^^^Take another example of reasoning. I hear an 
organ in an adjoining apartment. It may be said 
that I know the organ is there because I hear it. 
But all that I hear is a sound. That is the sum of 
my direct cognition. I remember that I have heard 
similar sounds, and that I had a direct cognition that 
they were caused by an organ. I infer that the 
sound now heard is caused by an organ. The men- 
tal process is similar to the one above described. 
There is first a direct cognition — i, e., sense-percep- 
tion — of sound ; secondly, recollected cognitions of 
similar sounds and their causes ; thirdly, an infer- 
ence from analogy that the present sounds are caused 
by an organ. The inference exemplifies the truth, 
that like causes produce like effects. We have in 
the process an act of cognition, an act of memory, 
and an act differing from both, viz., an inference. 
Reasoning is thus inferring unknown truths from 
those that are known. 

A man is standing on the bank of a river. He 
wishes to place his fish-hook at the bottom of the 
river. He attaches a piece of lead to it, with the cer- 
tainty that it will sink to the bottom. That the lead 
will sink, is an inference from analogy. The mental 
process is the same as in the two cases above noticed. 



196 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PKILOSOPHT. 

We have thus considered three cases of inferring 
— cases in which the inferences had reference to the 
past, the present, and the future. In each case, 
the certainty of the inference is proportioned to the 
exactness of the resembhince to former cases. 

A farmer surveys his fields with reference to dis- 
tributing his crops. He concludes that a certain 
field will yield a good crop of corn, because he has 
found from experience that soils of that description 
have yielded a good crop. He has had no experience 
connected with that particu.lar field. He has had 
experience of similar fields. His inference is an 
inference from analogy. It will be true in propor- 
tion as the field in question, and attendant circum- 
stances, are similar to those of which he has had 
experience. 

The merchant determines to import a certain arti- 
cle, because he believes there will be a demand for it, 
and that he can sell it at a profit. His experience 
has taught him that, on former occasions, when the 
circumstances of the country werc^ similar to present 
circumstances, there was a demand for the article in 
question. He infers that the article will be again in 
demand. The inference is founded on present and 
recollected cognitions. The facts whicli are the 
object of his present cognitions — which constitute 
the circumstances of the country — may be numerous 
and complicated. Some of them may be cognized 
by him directly, and some may be received on testi* 



REASONING. 197 

mony, and some may be inferred from other facts. 
He is therefore liable to error in regard to his facts — 
in regard to the grounds of his inference. He may 
err as to the degree of similarity between the pres- 
ent circumstances of the country and the circum- 
stances when the demand existed. The analogy may 
be so small, that the inference may not be accurate. 
But the mental process is the same as in the cases 
above described. 

The physician is called to visit a patient. He 
finds the patient has a certain disease. He prescribes 
a certain medicine, which he is confident will work a 
cure. He may be asked the ground of his confi- 
dence, and he answers, he is acting from experience. 
He knows from experience that the medicine will 
cure the disease. 

Now, what he really knov\^s is, that the medicine 
was efiective in a similar case. With the present 
patient he has had no experience. He has found 
that, in other similar cases, the medicine effected a 
cure ; he therefore infers that it will work a cure in 
the present case. His judgments from experience 
are inferences from analogy, and will be sound in 
proportion to the strictness of the analogy between 
the condition of his present and former patients. 

The statesman is said to be governed by experi- 
ence — his individual experience, and the recorded 
experience of the past. He adopts such measures 
as experience has shown to be wise. He has 



198 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

learned that certain measures in certain circum- 
stances have proved beneficial ; he therefore con- 
cludes that similar measures in similar circumstances 
will prove beneficial. His conclusions from experi- 
ence are inferences from analogy. Thus we have the 
type of all reasoning from experience. Reasoning 
from experience is inferring from analogy. 

Let us next consider the ordinary argument ibr 
the existence of an intelligent First Cause of the 
world. We observe in nature indications of design. 
Design implies an intelligent designer. Hence the 
world had an intelligent Creator. We cognize cer- 
tain facts. We know from experience what indica- 
tions of design are. We have seen certain things 
which we know to be the work of design ; hence, 
when we see analogous things in nature, we infer 
that they were the result of design. In the same 
way we know that design is the work of an intelli- 
gent cause, a person. The argument for the exist- 
ence of God is thus an argument from analogy. 

It thus appears that analogical reasoning compre- 
hends a very large portion of our reasonings. It is 
not, as has been sometimes stated in books, a second- 
ary and imperfect mode of reasoning, chiefly useful 
In answering objections. Nearly all the reasonings 
pertaining to practical life are reasonings from anal- 
ogy. It is the type of by far the greatest portion of 
the reasonings of life. 

Tlie conclusions arrived a,t by analogy vary from 



BEASONING. 199 

certainty to the lowest degree of probability. If 
you see footprints on the sand, you are perfectly sure 
that some person has been there. If you cast lead 
into the water, you are perfectly sure that it will 
sink. Tou meet with a stranger : you are perfectly 
sure that he is not infallible in all his conclusions. 
The certainty, in these cases, is the result of analogi- 
cal inference. 

You meet a large assemblage of uncultivated 
people, and find that they are partaking freely of 
intoxicating drinks. You infer that it is highly 
probable that there Avill be some disorder. 

There is liability to error in reasoning from anal- 
ogy. The error commonly is caused by an imperfect 
cognition of facts. An analogy is supposed to exist 
when it does not, or the analogy is less perfect than 
is supposed. False and imperfect analogies have 
been most fruitful sources of error. 

The mind should be carefully trained to an accu- 
rate perception of analogies. It is a most impor- 
tant part of the training of a reasoner. One of the 
ablest lawyers of our country remarked to the au- 
thor, " A perfect perception of analogies would make 
a perfect lawyer." 

We do not reason by mferring : inferring is rea- 
soning. Are analogical inferences the only inferences 
drawn by the mind ? 

Let it be proposed to prove the following proposi- 
tion : The President did not affix his signature at 



200 ELEMEJ^TS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 

Washington to a certain document on the fourth 
of January. Let the truth be substantiated that 
the President was on that day, and during the 
whole of that day, at Boston. Of course, he could 
not affix his signature to a document in Washington. 
The inference is irresistible : on what is it grounded ? 
On two facts or knowledges : the one, that a man 
cannot act where he is not ; and the other, that the 
President was in Boston. If we were destitute of 
either of these knowledges, the inference would not 
be sound. We know from experience that a man 
cannot act where he is not, and from personal obser- 
vation or testimony that the President was in Boston. 
The inference from these facts cannot fairly be classed 
under the head of analogy. In the case of a piece of 
lead being cast into water, the inference is from anal- 
ogy. We have seen other pieces sink, and confidently 
believe that this will sink. Our belief is so strong, 
that we say we know it will sink. 

When we know the facts above stated, we see 
that the signature was impossible. The inference is 
not a belief, however confident. It is a knowledge. 
We not only see that the proposition may be true : 
we see that it must be true. The process is clearly 
distinguishable from the analogical process. The 
principle illustrated in the analogical process is, like 
causes produce like effects. The principle or general 
fact illustrated in the case before us is, that a man 
cannot act where he is not. The inference may be 
called an inference from implication. 



REASONING. 201 

Take another example. One enters a portrait 
gallery. He sees a portrait wliich is a striking like- 
ness of his friend B. On inquiry, he learns that it is 
the portrait of Mr. C. C is unknown to him, but 
he infers that he resembles his friend B. Here is an 
inference grounded on the fact that the portrait is a 
striking likeness of two different persons. In that 
fact is implied the fact that the two persons resemble 
each other. The inference is one of implication, and 
not of analogy. It may perhaps be stated in an 
analogical form, but the statement would be a forced 
one, and the principle illustrated is not the analogical 
principle. The general fact illustrated is, that things 
that resemble the same things resemble one another. 

A man lost all his money yesterday ; therefore he 
cannot pay a debt due. Here is a fact and an infer- 
ence. The conclusion is implied in the fact. 

Analogy is not, therefore, the type of all reason- 
ing. We cognize some new truths by analogy, and 
others because implied in truths already known. The 
author has not examined any example of reasoning 
that does not come under the head of analogy or 
implication. 

In reasoning from analogy, the process and the 
principle illustrated are always the same. In reason- 
ing from implication, the process varies, or rather the 
principle illustrated differs as the facts or premises 
differ. This we should expect. The process consists 
in seeing a truth in consequence of its relation to an- 
9* 



202 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

other truth. Tiniths are connected by various rela- 
tions. Hence, one truth introduces another to the 
mind's view by a relation different from that by 
which another truth introduces one. In other words, 
we should not expect to find all truths implied in 
other truths in the same way. 






4r>w 



Cy O^^^ 'iiS'^'it-'^-i,-!, 



CHAPTER XXI. 

MATHEMATICAL REASONIlS'a. 

Mathematical reasoning is reasoning concerning 
mathematical truth. It is cognizing unknown mathe- 
matical truths by means of those that are known. 
Certainty attaches to mathematical reasoning, but 
this does not constitute the difference between mathe- 
matical and moral reasoning; that is, reasoning on 
subjects that are mathematical and those that are 
not mathematical — reasoning relating to necessary 
truth and to contingent truth. Some of our conclu- 
sions from contingent truths are as certain as are all 
our conclusions from necessary truths. The conclu- 
sions in some of the examples above given are as 
certain as any of the conclusions of geometry; and to 
affirm the opposite is as absurd as to affirm the oppo- 
site of the conclusions of geometry. To affirm that 
a man in Boston can write his sign manual in Wash- 
ington, is not less absurd than to say that two lines that 
are equal to a third line are not equal to one another. 

It has been said that the certainty of geometrical 



204 ELEMENTS OE INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

reasoning is owing to the exactness of its definitions, 
and that a similar exactness in our definitions in 
morals and politics would secure a similar certaintj 
m moral and political reasoning. The remark is 
founded on a misapprehension as to the nature of the 
definitions of geometry. They are not arbitrary eon- 
structions depending upon the skill of the writers 
on geometry. They are not creations of the mind. 
They are statements of necessary truths. They are 
statements of facts respecting space and its relations. 
A straight line is a certain relation in space between 
two objects or points in space. Angles are certain 
combinations of straight lines. So of other geomet- 
rical figures described in the definitions. The defi- 
nitions are statements of facts in relation to space, as 
the definitions of geology are statements of facts ii? 
regard to the earth. 

They are not mere conceptions of the mind — 
hypotheses, from which we infer hypothetical truth. 
They are realities — that is, real truths in relation to 
space, which are cognized as soon as they are set be- 
fore the mind. 

If they were mere hypotheses, mental figments, we 
should be at liberty to vary them ; but this has not 
been done, and cannot be done. Writers on geom.- 
etry have difiered slightly in their modes of expres- 
sion when stating the definitions ^ but all have 
directed the mind to the same truths. If they are 
hypotheses, they are mere creations of the mind. 



MATHEMATICAL REASONING. 205 

The uniforin agreement of geometers in regard to 
them is inexplicable on the supposition that they are 
hypotheses, hut perfectly explicable on the supposi- 
tion "that they are cognized relations of space — ne- 
cessary truths. 

It is objected to this view, that had we never seen 
a material line, angle, or circle, we could not under- 
stand the definitions of geometry. Doubtless our 
first ideas of lines, angles, and circles, are received 
through the agency of the senses. Our primary cog- 
nitions are probably cognitions by the senses. Our 
cognition of space is conditioned on our cognition of 
matter. In like manner, our cognition of the relations 
of space — forms of shape, may be conditioned on our 
cognition of material forms. 

Mill denies that the definitions of geometry have 
any existence — denies that there are any geometrical 
forms distinct from material forms. He says: "There 
exist no points without magnitude, no lines without 
breadth, nor perfectly straight ; no circles v/ith all 
their radii exactly equal, nor squares with all their 
angles perfectly right. It will perhaps be said that 
the assumption does not extend to the actual, but 
only to the possible existence of such things. I answer 
that, according to any test that we have of possi- 
bility, they are not even possible. Their existence, so 
far as we can form any judgment, would seem to be 
inconsistent with the physical constitution of our 
planet, at least, if not of the universe. To get rid of 



206 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

this difficulty, and at the same time to save the credit 
of the supposed systems of necessary truths, it is 
customary to say that the points, lines, circles, and 
squares which are the subject of geometry, exist in our 
conceptions merely, and are part of our minds ; which 
minds, by working on their own materials, construct 
an a priori science, the evidence of which is purely 
mental, and has nothing whatever to do with outward 
experience. By howsoever high authorities this doc- 
trine may have been sanctioned, it appears to me 
psychologically incorrect. The points, lines, circles, 
and squares which any one has in his mind, are, I 
apprehend, simply copies of the points, lines, circles, 
and squares which he has known by experience. A 
line as defined by geometers is wholly inconceivable. 
We can reason about a line as if it had no breadth ; 
because we have a power, which is the foundation 
of the control we can exercise over the operations of 
our minds ; the power, when a perception is present 
to our senses, or a conception to our intellects, of 
attending to a part only of that perception or concep- 
tion, instead of the whole. But we cannot conceive 
of a line without breadth; we can form no mental 
picture of such a line : all the lines which we have in 
our minds are lines possessing breadth. If any one 
doubts this, we may refer him to his own experience.- 
I much question if any one who fancies that he can 
conceive what is called a mathematical line, thinks so 
from the evidence of his consciousness. I suspect it 



MATHEMATICAL REASONING. 207 

is rather because he supposes that unless such a con- 
ception were possible, mathematics could not exist as 
a science ; a supposition which there will be no diffi- 
culty in showing to be entirely groundless. 

" Since, then, neither in nature nor in the human 
mind do there exist any objects exactly correspond- 
ing to the definitions of geometry, while yet that 
science"^ cannot be supposed to be conversant about 
nonentities ; nothing remains but to consider geom- 
etry as conversant with such lines, angles, and 
figures as really exist; and the definitions, as they 
are called, must be regarded as some of our first and 
most obvious generalizations concerning those natural 
objects." 

We admit that "there exist no real [material] 
things exactly conformable to the definitions;" but 
unless material things are admitted to comprehend 
all things, his assertion is not necessarily correct. 
We affirm that there exist real things exactly con- 
formable to the definitions ; that there are real rela- 
tions of space, which are intuitively cognized when 
the mind's attention is directed to them. 

He says, " We cannot conceive of a line without 
breadth," by which we suppose he means, we can 
form no mental picture of such a line. Material 
objects are the only objects of which we can form 
mental pictures. We can form no mental picture of 
the human mind, yet it is a reality. All spiritual 
truths are unpicturable. If reality were confined to 



208 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

the picturaWe, materialism v/ould be the only true 
philosophy. 

The definitions of geometry are then neither arbi- 
trary creations of the mind, nor mere copies of ma- 
terial objects. If the former were true, the science 
of geometry would be wholly subjective. If the 
latter, then it would follow, as Mill affirms, that 
the peculiar certainty always ascribed to it*^"is an 
illusion." 

Dugald Stewart taught that reasoning in geometry 
is built wholly upon the definitions. The definitions 
.he regarded as hypotheses, and hence the results of 
demonstration as only hypothetically true. 

We have seen that the definitions of geometry 
are statements of facts. Let us next consider the 
axioms. The axioms are generalized statements of 
self-evident truths. Like all intuitive truths, they 
are cognized by all men — are admitted by all. This 
has been denied. It has been said that the savages 
of the western world never cognized the axioms, 
and hence the assertion that all men cognize them is 
not true. It is true that the axioms of geometry, as 
they are stated in books, have not been present to 
the minds of all men. But it must be remembered; 
that truth of every kind is first cognized in particu- 
lar or individual instances. Did the savage ever 
fail to perceive that the whole of a deer was greater 
than its part ? Did he ever proceed to a division 
of the results of hunting on the opposite principle ? 



MATHEMATICAL REASONING. 209 

When an individual case occurred, did he ever fail to 
perceive that two arrows, each equal in length to a 
third, were equal to one another ? The tiaiths of 
which the axioms are the generalized statement are 
intuitively cognized hy all men as instances occur. 
They are intuitive, necessary truths. 

Mill affirms that the axioms " are experimental 
truths — generalizations from observation." Observe 
that a generalization from observation is one thing — 
a generalized statement of an intuitive cognition 
another thing. That all men are mortal, is a gener- 
alizatioD from observation. A series of observa- 
tions — that is, a number of observed facts — is neces- 
sary to a generalization. A single intuitive cognition 
renders the truth of the axioms as certain as a thou- 
sand cognitions. When we have seen two rods each 
equal to a third, we intuitively cognize their equality 
with each other ; and the statement of the fact thus 
cognized in a general form constitutes an axiom. A 
single cognition gives us the axiom. -Vf e see that it 
is true and must be true from one example as v/ell as 
from a thousand. 

The question. Does geometrical reasoning depend 
upon the axioms or the definitions ? has been ear- 
nestly discussed. Locke and others contended that 
the axioms contribute nothing to the reasoning. 
Stewart adopted the same view, and contended 
that geometrical reasoning depends upon the defini- 
tions. Whewell, whose view of the nature of the 



210 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

definitions approaches very nearly to the true view, 
contends that the axioms, as well as the definitions, 
must be admitted as first principles of geometrical 
reasoning. 

The expression, first principles of reasoning, is 
equivocal. First principles may mean the facts from 
which the reasoning starts, or they may mean princi- 
ples or truths from which all the truths of geometry 
are deduced. Thus it is sometimes said, that from a 
few simple truths the far-reaching science of geome- 
try has been built up. The impression on some 
minds seems to be, that the science is constructed 
out of the few truths expressed in the axioms or defi- 
nitions, or both, either by combination or deduction. 
It is, perhaps, a common impression, that the truths 
of every science are deduced from self-evident truths. 
This impression is in consequence of the fact, that 
when we trace our knowledge in any department of 
science to its origin, we arrive at self-evident truths. 
But it does not follow from this, that all our knowl- 
edge is deduced from those self-evident truths. 
Truth is deduced only from comprehensive truths, 
and self-evident truths are always simple. Self-evi- 
dent truths may constitute the origin, but not the 
source of all our knowledge. It does not follow, 
because a knowledge of certain truths is necessary 
to the knowledge of other truths, that the latter 
are contained m the former. A truth may be the 
condition of my cognizing another truth, witliout 



I 



MATHEMATICAL REASONIIS^G. 211 

containing that truth. So far is it from being true 
that the science of geometry is deduced from the 
axioms, it may be affirmed that no truth can be 
deduced from an axiom. Take any one of the ac- 
knowledged axioms (for some propositions which 
appear among the axioms in some treatises are really 
definitions), and try* to deduce a truth from it. Take 
the axiom, " Things equal to the same things are 
equal to one another," and what truth can you de- 
duce from it ? None. It will be said, we prove 
propositions by its aid. Let that assertion be made 
good by an appeal to facts. Take the first problem 
of Euclid — ^to construct an equilateral triangle. The 
process of proving that the triangle constructed is 
equilateral, consists in showing that two sides of the 
triangle, viz., A and B, are equal, because radii of 
the same circle ; and that the sides B and C are 
equal, because radii of the same circle. The sides A 
and C have thus been shown to be equal to B, there- 
fore they are equal to one another. If the question 
be asked. On what ground is the conclusion made 
that A and C are equal ? the reply may be, Because 
things equal to the same are equal to one another. 
The conclusion is supposed to be drawn from the 
axiom as a premise. But suppose one had never 
heard the axiom stated. He would perceive the 
equality of the two lines as soon as he had perceived 
their equality to a third line. In fact, the truth is 
seen before the axiom is quoted, and before it is 



212 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

called to mind. Of course, it cannot be drawn from 
the axiom. If we consult what takes place m our 
minds, we shall discover that, as soon as we see that 
A and C are equal to B, we see that they are equal to 
one another. We see that they are equal because 
they are equal ; just as we see the tree before us, 
because it is before us. 

In the demonstration, the conditions of the cogni- 
tion of the equality of A to B and C to B are given, 
and then the truth of their equality to each other is 
announced. The question is asked, Why? and the 
reply is, " Because things equal to the same are equal 
to one another." A generalized statement of what is 
intuitively perceived to be true in a given case, is 
given as the reason of it ; that is, the repetition of a 
truth is given as the reason of that truth ! There is 
no reasoning in such a course of procedure. 

Take another example. In the course of a demon- 
stration, it is seen and stated that an angle A is a 
part of an angle B, therefore B is greater than A. 
It is not necessary to quote or to call to mind the 
axiom. The whole is greater than its part, before we 
cognize the fact that B is greater than A. It is in- 
tuitively perceived ; and when we quote the axiom, 
our cognition is not aifected by it. It is a mere repe- 
tition in a general form of the truth intuitively per- 
ceived in the case in hand. 

It thus appears that conclusions in geometry are 
not deduced from the axioms — that the axioms have 



^lATHEMATICAL EEASONi:^rG. 213 

no probative force. If treatises on geometry were to 
omit all reference to axioms, the reasoning v/oukl be 
just as intelligible and irresistible as it is now. 

It may perhaps be said, that if the axioms were 
not true, the steps in the demonstration which exem- 
plify them would not be true. A little reflection y^^ill 
show that this is tantamount to saying, that if cer- 
tain things were not true, they would not be true. 

The truths of geometry are, then, not deduced 
from the axioms. Geometrical reasoning does not 
depend upon the axioms. The science of geometry 
is not built up of axioms. 

Does geometrical reasoning, then, depend upon 
the definitions ? In a certain sense it does. Geo- 
metrical reasoning depends upon the definitions in 
the same sense in which geological reasoning de- 
pends upon the rocks which constitute the facts of 
the science. The definitions are the facts which the 
geometer reasons about. He compares them, and 
cognizes relations existing betv^een them. The new 
truths arrived at are not inferences, but intuitive cog- 
nitions. A demonstration is a series of intuitive cog- 
nitions conditioned upon preceding cognitions. At 
the outset the intuitive cognitions are conditioned 
on the truths contained in the definitions : each new 
cognition may be the condition of a new cogni- 
tion, as each step in the ascent of a mountain may 
be the condition of a v/ider prospect. 

A geometrical demonstration is a series of intui- 



214 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL rHILOSOPHY. 

tive cognitions conditioned on preceding truths — 
starting with the truth contained in the definitions. 
The process is plainly distinguishable from that of 
inferring. 

If the definitions are not truths, if they are mere 
mental figments, then the relations between them are 
figments, and that which is regarded as the most cer- 
tain of all knowledge becomes unreal, fictitious. 
But the definitions are truths, self-evident, necessary 
truths. They are assented to by all as soon as clearly 
stated ; that is, it is seen that space has, and must 
have, the relations indicated by the definitions. The 
certainty of the reasoning depends upon the nature 
of the truth reasoned about, and not upon skilfulness 
of definition. It is therefore unreasonable to demand 
mathematical demonstration in relation to contins^ent 
truths. No fact, that is, no contingent event, can be 
mathematically demonstrated. 

It was stated above that a demonstration consists 
of a series of intuitive cognitions, each conditioned 
on preceding cognitions. Testimony and inference 
have no place in a demonstration ; for every step must 
not only be seen to be true, but necessarily true, and 
the opposite impossible. The opposite of the truest 
testimony is often not impossible. The opposite of 
the soundest inference is not impossible. The truth j 
of the above assertion in regard to geometrical de- j 
monstration can be tested by an analysis of a demon- 
stration. 



^^.^/ 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE SYLLOGISM. 

It has been affirmed that the syllogism is the mode 
of reasoning in regard both to contingent and neces- 
sary truth. A syllogism consists of a major and 
minor premise and a conclusion. The following is an 
example : 

All men are mortal : 

Socrates is a man ; 

Therefore, Socrates is mortal. 
It is affirmed that the reasoning process is the 
same in all cases. Whately says that " one of the 
chief impediments in attaining a just view of the na- 
ture and object of Logic, is the not fully understand- 
ing or not sufficiently keeping in mind the sameistess 
of the reasoning process in all cases." The syllogism 
he regards as the type of all reasoning, and the prin- 
ciple on which syllogisms are constructed "is the 
miiversal principle of reasoning." This universal 
principle is the Dictum of Aristotle, viz., "that 
whatever is predicated (^. 6., affirmed or denied) uni- 
versally of any class of things, may be predicated in 



216 ELEMENTS OF II^TELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

like marnier (viz., affirmed or denied) of any thing 
comprehended in that class." 

. " 'Now to remind one, on each occasion, that so 
and so is referable to such and such a class, and that 
the class which happens to be before us comprehends 
such and such things — this is precisely all that is ever 
acco7nplished hy reasoning,'^'' 

If this is all, reasoning has a much less extended 
scope than is generally supposed. If the analysis we 
have given of contingent and demonstrative reason 
be true, the process is not in all cases the same ; and 
the Dictum is not the universal principle of reasoning. 
The process by which we cognize truths previously 
unknown, is something more than a reminding that 
the object we are reasoning about belongs to a certain 
class of objects. 

The following remarks of Bailey are worthy of 
attention : ^' The Dictum de omni et nullo^ viz., that 
' whatever is predicated universally of any class of 
things, may be predicated in like manner of any thing, 
comprehended in that class,' is not only stated by 
logicians to be a general maxim, of the application 
of which every direct syllogism is a particular in- 
stance, but proclaimed to be the universal principle 
of reasoning. 

" If we closely scrutinize the meaning of this maxim, 
undazzled by the somewhat magnificent and imposing 
phraseology in which it has been spoken of, we shall 
find it an obviously simple and undeniable proposition, 



1 



THE SYLLOGISM. 217 

viz., whatever is asserted of a class may be asserted 
of any species or individual of that class. A class, 
ht)Vfever, we must bear in mind, is not a collective or 
corporate whole, which, as a whole, possesses proper- 
ties or attributes different from those of the individ- 
uals composing it; but what is predicated of it is 
predicated of every separate individual ranked under 
it. The proposition, *A11 men are fallible,' affirms that 
every individual man is fallible ; while the proposi- 
tion, 'The army is large,' affirms of the body col- 
lectively something which it does not affirm of any 
single individual in it. If a class v/ere such a col- 
lective body, the Aristotelian maxim could not be true. 
" The dictum, therefore, it is plain, means neither 
more nor less than that w^hatever is predicated of 
every individual of a class, may be predicated of any 
individual, or any number of individuals, of that class. 
As, however, what can be truly predicated of any 
thing must be a property or attribute actually pos- 
sessed, we may, if we choose, leave out predication 
altogether, and then the maxim w^ill appear in a still 
simpler shape, as follows : What belongs to every 
individual of a class must belong to any individual 
of that class. However it may be expressed, it is 
obviously a self-evident and indisputable truth, like 
the other maxims we have just been considering ; and 
this view of its coordinate character is sufficient of 
itself to determine the accuracy of the maxim which 
proclaims it the universal principle of reasoning. 
10 



218 ELEMENTS OP INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

"If this doctrine were true, every act of reasoning 
would be an exemplification of this one maxim, and 
might be ranged under it. In other words, all rea- 
soning without exce|)tion would consist in concluding 
that an attribute belongs to some individual class, be- 
cause it belongs to every individual of that class. No 
other reason, according to this theory, can possibly 
exist or be assigned. The sole ground on which we 
can argue that an individual thing possesses any 
attribute, is, that the thing belongs to a class, all the 
members of which possess the attribute." 

From the examples of reasoning which have 
been given, the student can decide whether they all 
come under the head of what may be termed class- 
reasoning; whether the concUision, be it an inference 
from analogy, or a cognition conditioned on preceding 
cognitions, is reached by referring the subject to a 
particular class or not. 

The doctrine above stated assumes that all our 
reasonings proceed from general principles, which 
assumption is unauthorized and is contrary to fact. 
All reasoning at the outset proceeds from facts di- 
rectly cognized. By reasoning from facts we acquire 
general conclusions, and may use these conclusions as 
premises or facts for further reasoning. 

When we thus use a general conclusion as a 
premise, the whole reasoning rests upon the facts 
from which the conclusion was deduced. 

General principles may be revealed to us, and we 



THE SYLLOGISM. 219 

may draw inferences from them. The absolute per- 
fection of God is revealed to iis : we may infer from 
it that such and such things cannot be done by him. 
If all our reasonings proceeded upon general prin- 
ciples — that is, if a general principle must in all cases 
form the major premise — then, in order that our rea- 
soning be sound, the major premise must be revealed 
to us, or we must intuitively cognize its truth. But 
all our intuitions are of individual truths, not of 
general principles ; and all general principles are not 
revealed to us. They are arrived at by induction, 
which is inferring from analogy. 

That every argument may be stated in a syllogistic 
form, does not prove that the mind used the syllogistic 
form, in mating the inference. The different steps in 
a geometrical demonstration can be stated in a syl- 
logistic form; but the mind does not use that form in 
reaching the conclusion. In the problem above ad- 
duced, in which the object is to prove that the tri- 
angle constructed is equilateral, two sides are shown 
each to be equal to the third side, and consequently 
they are equal to one another. The mind sees their 
equality to one another as soon as it sees their equal- 
ity to the third side. The argument may be stated 
in a syllogistic form. 

Things equal to the same are equal to one another : 

A and C are each equal to B ; 

Therefore, they are equal to one another. 

We have seen that the conclusion follows as soon 



220 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

as we see that A and C are equal to B. It is not 
drawn from the axiom. The axiom is merely the 
generalized statement of what is intuitively cognized 
in an invividual case. The mind made no use of the 
major premise in coming to the conclusion ; the 
conclusion would have been reached just as quickly, 
if the major premise had never been heard of. Every 
step in a geometrical demonstration can be stated in 
the form of a syllogism. The remarks respecting the 
problem above noticed will apply to every geomet- 
rical syllogism. 

Instead of all reasoning being resolvable into the 
syllogism, a large portion of syllogistic reasoning is 
resolvable into reasoning from analogy. Take the 
example given above : 

All men are mortal : 

Socrates is a man ; 

Therefore, Socrates is mortal. 
Here the thing to be proved, the unknown truth 
to be reached by means of the known, is the mortality 
of Socrates. What is it inferred from ? According 
to the syllogism, from the major premise, "All men are 
mortal." But how does the reasoner know that all 
men, including Socrates, are mortal ? For as Socrates 
is a man, his being mortal must be known, that the 
premise may be valid ; that is, the thing to be proved 
must be known, in order that it may be proved ! 

It has been charged against the syllogism, that in 
the major premise it assumes the point to be proved ; 



THE SYLLOGISM. 221 

that every syllogism is a petitio principii. The charge 
is good against the syllogism of Avliich the above is 
the type. 

The mortality of Socrates, or of any other man, is 
provable. What is the process of proof? All men 
v/ho have lived heretofore have died: Socrates is 
like them — has the same attributes; therefore, So- 
crates will die. In other words, a great many beings 
like Socrates have died ; therefore, he will die. The 
inference is plainly an inference from analogy. The 
real argument cannot be stated in a syllogism con- 
structed in accordance with the dictum. 

Men learn to reason by reasoning, and not by the 
study of treatises on logic, which are not necessarily 
logical treatises. The author bas questioned quite a 
number of men eminent for power in reasoning, and 
in no instance was the study of a technical logic 
referred to as a source of that power. They learned 
to reason by reasoning. 

In fact, logic as taught in the schools does not 
profess to teach one how to reason. It professes to 
teach him how to cast an argument into a syllogistic 
form, in order that its soundness or unsoundness may 
appear from the form of the syllogism, though the 
argument were not understood. It would furnish, as 
it were, a mechanical test of arguments. 

May there not be a more excellent way — that of 
training the mind to look directly at the proposition 
in question, to scan the premises to see if they are 



222 ELEMENTS OF INTELLEOTFAL PHILOSOPHY. 

true, and the inference to see if it be legitimate? If 
reasoning consists in perceiving certain relations exist- 
ing between truths, the power of cognizing relations 
should be exercised in preference to the practice of 
formal rules. We learn to reason by reasoning, just 
as we learn to remember by remembering. Let the 
student select the best specimens of reasoning to be 
found in the language. Let him make those speci- 
mens the subject of a careful study. Let him note 
how such men as Marshall and Webster and other 
great reasoners reasoned, and let him go and do like- 
wise. 

The study of mathematics may form habits favor- 
able to moral reasoning, but cannot make a moral 
reasoner ; that is, cannot make one skilful in reasoning 
on subjects that are not mathematical. The exclusive 
, devotion of the mind for a long time to mathematical 
reasoning, has a tendency to unfit one for moral 
reasoning. The mind forms the habit of demanding 
certainty at every step, and acquires no skill in 
weighing probabilities, and evolving the truth from 
conflicting evidences. To estimate probabilities, and 
to reconcile apparent contradictions, and to detect 
tendencies, are processes Avhich the reasoner on prac- 
tical matters has occasion to perform daily ; and he 
who acquires skill in these processes is better fitted 
for practical life than he who has skill in the use of 
the calculus. 



(7 A ^r^a-it/a., 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



MEMORY, 






Our cognitions, feelings, and volitions are con- 
stantly changing. As they pass from consciousness, 
they leave the mind in a condition which renders 
their resuscitation possible. The mind can remember 
or recall its past operations. 

How the mind remembers we cannot tell ; that is, 
we cannot describe the act of remembering. We have 
seen that we cannot describe the act of perception ; 
we can only state its conditions. "We can pursue a 
similar course in regard to memory. 

In order that a thing may be remembered, it must 
receive some degree of attention. Objects which 
receive little or no attention, are seldom remembered. 
That memory is conditioned on attention, is known 
to all. 

The attention may be spontaneous or voluntary. 
The object of thought may be in itself so interesting, 
that the attention shall be spontaneously fixed upon 
it. In reading an interesting narrative, we may be 
conscious of no effort at attention, and yet the atten- 
tion may be so intensely fixed upon it, that we may 



224 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

become insensible to objects around ns. Such iiarra 
tives are easily remembered. Hence, if we would have 
others remember what we say, we must make our 
discourse interesting. 

The attention may, by an effort, an act of will, be 
fixed on objects which are not interesting — which do 
not attract spontaneous attention. To be able thus 
to fix the attention, is the chief characteristic of a 
well-disciplined mind. The habit can be gained only 
by repeated and long-continued effort. 

Clear and definite apprehension is necessary to 
distinct remembrance. The idea cannot appear in 
memory with greater distinctness than it appeared in 
perception. Hence, he who is cultivating the power 
of clear seeing, is cultivating his memory also. The 
right culture of one power of the mind tends to the 
improvement of the other powers. 

Objects which awaken emotion arc more easily 
remembered than those which do not. The effect of 
the emotion may be to concentrate the attention 
upon the object. It is said that such objects make a 
deeper impression upon the mind, and are therefore 
the more perfectly remembered. The phrase is simply 
a repetition of the fact which it seeks to account for. 

Repetition is favorable to remembrance. A story 
heard several times is remembered with all its details*; 
if it is heard but once, only the outline is remem- 
bered. The more frequently an object is present to 
the mind, the more readily it is recalled. 



MEMOEY. 225 

Relying upon the mind's power to remember — or 
trusting to memory — is another condition of remem- 
brance. This is the same thing as exercising the 
mind vigorously in remembering. The mind's power 
in regard to every kind of action is increased in pro- 
portion to the legitimate, vigorous exercise which it 
receives. Two persons may resolve to commit the 
same poem to memory. One, under a mistaken view 
of the relation of repetition to remembrance, reads it 
over a score of times before he attempts to repeat it. 
The other undertakes to repeat it after a single peru- 
sal, and refers to the book only when, after long-con- 
tinued effort, he fails to remember the stanza at 
fault. The latter pursues the course best adapted to 
strengthen his memory. 

The use of written memoranda is unfavorable 
to good habits of remembering. He who relies upon 
his memoranda, will not rely upon his memory. 
Power in remembering is thereby impaired. Self- 
reliance is as important in regard to memory as it is 
in regard to moral perception and voluntary action. 
One's memory Avill serve him just in proportion as he . 
really trusts it. One of the ablest and most exten- 
sive practitioners of law in ISTew York city never 
keeps a memorandum of the cases on hand. It is not 
known that he ever failed to attend to a case at the 
appointed time. 

An orderly and natural arrangement of our 
knowledge is favorable to memory. A well-arranged 
10* 



226 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

discourse or essay, in which the thoughts are placed 
in their natural relations to each other, is easily re- 
membered. Of a desultory, disconnected essay or 
discourse, we can remember only here and there a 
thought. This is owing to the fact that our thoughts 
succeed each other according to certain relations, or 
laws of association. Why they succeed each other 
according to these laws, we cannot tell. 

Susceptibility, retentivenes^, and readiness have 
been named as the qualities of a good memory ; in 
other words, it is desirable that the mind should be 
able to commit to memory easily, retain that which 
is thus committed, and readily reproduce it when 
wanted. Some minds commit to memory rapidly, 
and quickly forget what they have committed. 
Some commit with difficulty, but retain it long. 
Some retain with fidelity, but recall it slowly. Com- 
monly, slowness of recollection is not owing to any 
peculiar mental action in remembering. There is a 
great difference in minds with respect to rapidity 
and slowness of action. A mind whose general 
operations are slow, will be slow in remembering. 
Some minds are rapid, retentive, and ready with 
respect to remembering. 

Some acts of memory are spontaneous, and some 
are voluntary ; that is, voluntary efforts are neces- 
sary in order to recall the desired thought. Memory 
is not directly subject to the will. The mind cannot 
will the presence of any thought : the attempt pre- 



MEMORY. 227 

supposes the presence of the thought. We wish to 
remember something — we cannot tell what it is, for 
that would be to remember it. It seems to be 
utterly gone from our minds ; and yet, if another 
thought is suggested, we can see at once that it is 
not the thought whose presence we desire. We 
make an effort to remember. The effort consists in 
fixing our attention on objects known to be con- 
nected with the forgotten thought — in putting the 
mind in a waiting attitude. By-and-by the thought 
is resuscitated : perhaps we can trace the successive 
associated thoughts which brought it to mind — per- 
haps not. Sometimes a thought seems to flash upon 
our minds without any apparent connection with any 
other thought. Are there such disconnected mental 
acts ? 

Dugald Stewart thinks the thoughts constituting 
the links in the chain of association pass so quickly 
that we do not remember their presence. Hamil- 
ton's explanation is based on his theory of latent, 
unconscious mental modifications. 

Minds differ as to their power of remembering. 
This may be owing, in some cases, to original differ- 
ences in the structure of the minds thus differing, 
and in some cases to culture. There is in the case 
of nearly all persons a necessity for the exercise of 
memory which produces a considerable degree of 
development. 

Some men have an extraordinary capacity for 



228 ELEMENTS OF lA'TELI ECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

remembering dates and names, and an ordinary, 
perhaps inferior capacity of remembering ordinary 
things. "Others remember permanently, and with- 
out effort, localities, the faces of persons, and every 
form of external nature. Some have great facility in 
recollecting words and their relations to each other." 

"That these differences," says Dr. Wayland, 
" can be accounted for in some degree by educa- 
tion, I have no doubt. In the most remarkable 
instances, however, they seem to depend chiefly 
upon natural endowment. I have known several 
persons who have been gifted with some of these 
forms of recollection in a very uncommon degree, 
and they have uniformly told me that the things 
which they remembered cost them no more pains 
than those which they forgot. All the account 
which they could give of the matter was, that 
some classes of facts, without any special effort, 
remained permanently fixed in their recollection, 
while others were as readily forgotten by them as 
by other men. A highly esteemed clergyman of 
Massachusetts, lately deceased, who could tell the 
year of the graduation of every alumnus of his uni- 
versity, and the minutest incidents relating to every 
ordination in his vicinity for the last half century, 
assured me that it cost him no labor, but that it was, 
so far as he knew, a mental peculiarity. 

" The large development of any particular form of 
memory is not, of necessity, accompanied by any 



MEMORY. 229 

other remarkable intellectual endowments. Instances 
have frequently been noticed of men with prodigious 
powers of recollection, whose abilities in other re- 
sjDCCts were even below mediocrity. Very remark- 
able memory has even been observed in persons of so 
infirm an understanding, that they did not even com- 
prehend what they accurately repeated. In this case, 
probably, the power was mere susceptibility of mem- 
ory ; that is, the power of acquiring on the instant, 
without the ability of permanent recollection. A 
very remarkable case of this one-sided power is men- 
tioned in the life of the late Mr. Roscoe, of Liver- 
pool. A young Welsh fisherman, of about the age 
of eighteen, was found to have made most remark- 
able progress in the study of languages. He was 
not only familiar with Latin and Greek, but also with 
Hebrew, Arabic, and other Oriental dialects. Some 
benevolent gentlemen in that city provided means 
for giving him every literary advantage, in the hope 
that his vast acquisitions might be made useful to 
society, and also that he might unfold the processes 
by which his singular attainments had been made. 
The attempt was, however, unsuccessful. He seemed 
not to be peculiarly capable of education, but, with 
the exception of this peculiar gift, his mind partook 
entirely of the character of the class with which he 
had been associated." 

On the other hand, it is rare that high intellectual 
powers are found in connection with a defective 



230 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

memory. " For intellectnal power of the highest 
order," says Hamilton, " none were distinguished 
above Grotius and Pascal ; and Groiius and Pascal 
forgot nothing they had ever read or thought. Leib- 
nitz and Euler were not less celebrated for their in- 
telligence than for their memory, and both could 
repeat the whole of the u^iieid, Donellus knew the 
Corpus Juris by neart, and yet he was one of the 
profoundest and most original speculators in jurispru- 
dence. Muratori, though not a genius of the very 
highest order, was still a man of great ability and 
judgment ; and so powerful was his retention, that 
in making quotations he had only to read his pas- 
sages, put the books in their place, and then to write 
out from memory the words. Ben Jonson tells us 
that he could repeat all he had ever written, and 
whole books that he had read. Themistocles could 
call by their names the twenty thousand citizens of 
Athens ; Cyrus is reported to have known the names 
of every soldier in his army. Hortensius, after 
Cicero the greatest orator of Rome, after sitting a 
whole day at a public sale, correctly enunciated from 
memory all the things sold, their prices, and the 
names of the purchasers. Niebuhr, the historian of 
Rome, was not less distinguished for his memory 
than for his acuteness. In his youth he was em- 
ployed in one of the public offices of Denmark ; part 
of a book of accounts having been destroyed, he re- 
stored it from his recollection. Sir James Mackin- 



MEMORY. 231 

tosh was, likewise, remarkable for his power of mem- 
ory. An instance I can give you which I witnessed 
myself. In a conversation I had with him, we hap- 
pened to touch upon an author whom I mentioned in 
my last lecture — Muretus ; and Sir James recited 
from his oration in praise of the massacre of St. Bar- 
tholomew some considerable passages. Mr. Dugald 
Stewart, and the late Dr. Gregory, are likewise ex- 
amples of great talent united with great memory." 

As there has been thought to be an incompatibil- 
ity between great powers of memory and a sound 
judgment, it may be well to consider the relation of 
memory to judgment ; that is, what relation those 
mental acts which we call acts of memory sustain to 
those mental acts which we call conclusions or judg- 
ments. 

A man of good judgment draws accurate inferences 
from complex premises. From simple premises, men 
of slender capacity can draw accurate inferences. If 
one sees footprints on the sand, he infers that some 
person has been walking there. When the premises 
are complex — when the inference is to be drawn from 
a variety of facts, some of them obscure, perhaps, and 
some of them apparently in conflict, there is difficulty 
and liability to error. A man who cognizes the truth 
—draws accurate conclusions — under such circum- 
stances, is called a man of good judgment. 

The various facts from which he draws his infer- 
ences must be viewed, not separately, but in theii 



232 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

relations to each other. This comprehensive view 
requires the exercise of memory. The facts must be 
clearly before the mind, either by direct seeing oi 
distinct remembrance. Besides, the final conclusion 
must be the result of many subordinate conclusions. 
Hence they must all be distinctly remembered. Unles^i 
a man, therefore, have a good memory, he cannot be a 
man of good judgment. He may not have a good 
memory for dates and casual occurrences ; but he must 
have a good memory in relation to the materials oi 
his reasonings. He must have a good memory in 
relation to trains of thought. 

The power of memory is early developed, and, in 
comparison with the other powers, early decays. The 
first indications of mental decline have respect to the 
memory. The aged man forgets recent events. He 
forgets the events of yesterday, while he remembers 
the events of childhood. Why is this ? 

It is said that events in early life make a deeper 
impression upon the memory than events in later life, 
and are therefore remembered. Is this apparent 
reason for the fact any more than a re-afiirmance of 
the fact in other words ? The careful observer will 
meet with many examples of this method of proce- 
dure, when attempts are made to give a reason for 
that for which no reason can be given. Does the 
mind ever forget any of its experiences ? Are any 
mental operations so entirely forgotten that they 
cannot be recalled ? 



MEMORY. ' 233 

" From remarkable and well authenticated facts," 
says Dr. Wayland, "it appears that, probably from 
some unexplained condition of the material organs, 
the recollection of knowledge long since obliterated 
may be suddenly revived. These cases have been 
observed to occur most frequently in extreme sick- 
ness, and on the near approach of death. May it not 
be that, in our present state, the material and imma- 
terial part of man being intimately united, our failure 
of recollection is caused by some condition of the 
material organism ; and that, as this union approaches 
dissolution, the power of the material over the im- 
material is weakened, and the knowledge which we 
have once acquired is more fully revealed to our 
consciousness, indicating that when the separation is 
complete it will remain with us forever ? 

"A variety of cases are mentioned by writers on this 
subject, a few of which are here inserted. 

"An instance is mentioned by Coleridge of a ser- 
vant-girl in Germany, who, in extreme sickness, was 
observed to repeat passages of Greek, Latin, and 
Hebrew, though she was known to have no acquaint- 
ance with those languages. Upon inquiry into her 
history, it was found that many years before, she had 
been a domestic in the family of a learned professor, 
who Vt^as in the habit of repeating aloud passages 
from his favorite authors while walking in his study, 
which adjoined the apartment in which she was ac- 
customed to labor. This case is the more remarkable. 



234 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

inasmuch as the person had never been conscious 
herself of having acquired the knowledge which she, 
under these circumstances, exhibited, 

"The Rev. Mr. Flint, a very intelligent gentleman, 
who, in a series of interesting letters, has related his 
experiences in the valley of the Mississippi, informs 
^us that, under a desperate attack of typhus fever, as 
his attendants afterwards told him, he repeated whole 
pages from Virgil and Homer, which he had never 
committed to memory, and of which, after his re- 
covery, he could not recollect a line. 

" Dr. Abercrombie, in his work on intellectual phi- 
losophy, mentions a variety of cases in which persons 
in extreme sickness, and under operations for injuries 
of the head, conversed in languages which they had 
known in youth, but had for many years entirely for- 
gotten. 

" Dr. Rush mentions the case of an Italian gentle- 
man who died of yellow fever in New York, who, in 
the beginning of his sickness, spoke English ; in the 
middle of it, French ; but on the day of his death, 
nothing but Italian. A Lutheran clergyman informed 
Dr. Rush that the Germans and Swedes of his con- 
gregation in Philadelphia, when near death, always 
prayed in their native languages, though some of 
them, he was confident, had not spoken them for fifty 
or sixty years. 

" Dr. Abercrombie mentions another case, of a boy, 
who, at the age of four, received a fracture of the 



MEMOEY. 235 

skull, for wliich he underwent the operation of the 
trepan. He was at the time in a state of perfect 
stupor ; and, after his recovery, retained no recollec- 
tion either of the accident or of the operation. At 
the age of fifteen, during the delirium of a fever, he 
gave his mother a correct description of the operation, 
and the persons who were present at it, with their 
dress and other minute particulars. He had never 
been observed to allude to it before, and no means 
were known by which he could have acquired a 
knowledge of the circumstances which he related. 

"What conclusion we are authorized to draw from 
these facts, it is difficult to determine. They, how- 
ever, indicate that what we seem to forget can never 
be irretrievably lost to the percipient soul. The 
means for recalling it in some inexplicable manner 
appears to exist ; and when, under some unknown 
conditions, they are called into action, all or any part 
of our knowledge may on the instant be brought to 
our recollection. 

" The moral lesson which these facts inculcate is 
obvious. If every impression made upon the mind 
is to remain upon it forever ; if the soul be a tablet 
from which nothing that is written is ever erased, how 
great is the importance of imbuing it with that knowl- 
edge w^hich shall be a source of joy to us as long as 
we exist. And, again, since knowledge which iies so 
long dormant may be revived unexpectedly, under 
conditions which we cannot foresee, and at times 



236 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

when it may have the most important bearings upon 
our decisions and our destiny, it is of the greatest 
consequence to us to store tbe mind with such knowl- 
edge as shall invigorate our principles and confirm 
our virtue. He who reads a corrupting book for pas- 
time may thoughtlessly lay it down, and suppose that 
in a few days all the images which it has created will 
have passed from his remembrance forever. But 
these latent ideas may be recalled by some casual as- 
sociation, or some physical condition of the brain, and 
give that bias to his mind in the hour of temj)tation, 
which will determine him to a course that shall tend 
to his final undoing." 

The power of memory is susceptible of rapid and 
great improvement ; and^ as many of the most im- 
portant of the operations of the mind are conditioned 
upon its proper exercise, it is worthy of cultivation. 
The law of its growth is exercise, and the only diffi- 
culty lying in the way is indolence. Every fact, 
every thought perfectly mastered, increases the 
power of the memory. The memory is not like a 
storehouse, which may be filled to repletion. It is a 
power that grows strong in proportion to the amount 
of work it does. The more one remembers accu- 
rately and perfectly, the more he can remember. 
Few, if any, acquire the power of memory which 
they might acquire. 

There is in the minds of some a prejudice against 
committing to memorj ve7'I)ati7n ; but the power of 



MEMORY. 237 

SO doing is very desirable, and almost indispensable. 
No power of retaining wbat is called the substance 
of a discourse or chapter will supply its place. 
What is wanted is j^ower to remember thoughts in 
their connection, and words also. In early life, the 
mind should be exercised much in committing to 
memory. The habit thus formed y/ill be of great 
importance in subsequent life. It is not, of course, 
to be a substitute for the exercise of other powers, 
but a condition for the exercise of those powers. If 
those teachers who rigidly exact the accurate exer- 
cise of the memory, would in like manner exact a 
rigid exercise of the reasoning power, there would be 
no prejudices against their pupils in consequence of 
their power of memory. They would not be termed 
men of mere memory. 

As Dr. Wayland remarks, " The importance of 
this faculty is frequently underrated, especially by 
young men. If a man succeed in almost any depart- 
ment of intellectual labor, it is often said, by way of 
disparagement, that his elfort is nothing but the 
result of unusual memory. Were this the fact, it 
would still be true that the cultivation of memory to 
high perfection, so that our past knowledge is always 
available in every emergency, is neither an ordinary 
nor a contemptiblo* attainment. But the assertion is 
commonly unfounded. Yv^hile distinguished success 
in any department can rarely be attained by the 
exercise of memory alone, it is equally true that the 



238 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

noblest powers would be continually liable to morti* 
fying ^failure without it. Let us, then, labor to culti- 
vate this faculty by every means in our power, 
always remembering that we shall derive from it the 
greatest advantage, not by allowing it to supersede 
the use of the other faculties, but by training it to 
act in subordination to them. He who reasons with- 
out facts must always proceed in the dark ; while he 
who relies on isolated facts, neither using his powers 
of generalization nor reasoning, must be willing to 
remain always a child." 

Is memory to be trusted ? Can we rely upon our 
recollections ? It is said that memory sometimes 
deceives us : how, then, can we be sure that in any 
given instance it does not deceive us ? If a witness 
is known to testify falsely sometimes, how can we be 
sure that he testifies truly at any given time, unless 
there is other evidence to the truth of what he 
affirms ? 

The attentive reader will readily see that there is 
no analogy between mistakes in regard to remember- 
ing and false testimony on the part of a witness. 

What is meant by the expression, Our memory 
sometimes deceives us ? Simply that w^e sometimes 
think we remember a thing when we do not remem- 
ber it ; just as we sometimes think we see a thing 
when we do not see it. The fact that sometimes, in 
a mist, we mistake a shrub for a man, does not cause 
u$ to doubt whether we see the man that stands 



MEMORY. 239 

before us in the clear sunlight. There are some 
things whicli^we are absolutely certain we see ; so 
there are some things which we are absolutely cer- 
tain we remember. Trusting our memories is trust- 
ing our minds. We can trust our minds in regard to 
our recollections as well as in regard to our percep- 
tions. 



•-5"..^' (/'^-^ ^-^^£^r^ 



n 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



ASSOCIATION. 



In all our waking hours we are conscious of a 
constant succession of tliouglits and feelings. We 
can influence the train of thought by turning our 
attention to certain objects, and withdray/ing it from 
other objects; but when we make no such effort, the 
train proceeds spontaneously. The thoughts do not, 
however, succeed each other at random, but accord- 
ing to certain laws, or certain relations existing be- 
tween them. The relations most influential are those 
of resemblance, contrast, contiguity in time or place, 
and cause and effect. These are commonly called 
laws of association. They are facts derived from 
experience. 

Thoughts have a tendency to introduce resem- 
bling thoughts, or are naturally followed by resem- 
bling thoughts. You see a building : you remember 
one similar to it. You read a beautiful passage : you 
remember a similar one. The suggesting similarity 
between two things may relate to the things them- 
selves, or to their causes, or to their consequences. 



ASSOCIATION. 241 

The resemblance may be striking, or it may be 
sliglit. Dr. Thomas Brown affirms that genius con- 
sists in the capacity of associating ideas by remote 
analogies. 

Thoughts have a tendency to introduce their 
opposites. The palace suggests the hovel, the desert 
the luxuriant field. The rhetorical figure of antithe- 
sis is founded on the principle of contrast. Fewer 
thoughts are introduced by this relation than by the 
relation of resemblance. 

When we visit the scenes of our childhood, the 
incidents of that period are brought to mind. We 
never think of Thermopyl^ without thinking of 
Leonidas. We never think of Calvary without 
thinking of the stupendous event of which it was 
the scene. Places owe their chief interest to the 
events associated vath them. Contiguity in time 
and place is a principle of association in all mind^ 
and a leading one in uneducated minds. 

When we see an event, we think of its cause and 
of its consequences. This principle of association is 
prominent in philosophical minds. 

The above-mentioned relations have a great influ- 
ence in determining our trains of thought ; yet other 
relations have an influence. The relations between 
our thoughts are numberless, and any one of them 
may introduce a thought. Some have attempted to 
enumerate all the laws of association, and have enu- 
merated primary and secondary laws — objective and 
11 



242 ELEMEIS^TS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

subjective laws. To enumerate all the facts that may 
cause one thought to introduce another, would be to 
enumerate all the relations existino- between our 
thoughts ; and that is impossible. 

Our spontaneous trains of thought are modified 
by the peculiar emotive condition of the mind. Dif- 
ferent laws of association operate in diiferent moods 
of mind. When the mind is in a gloomy state, a 
joyous assembly may suggest a funeral : vfhen in a 
cheerful state, it calls to remembrance a similar 
assembly. In the one case the principle of contrast, 
and in the other that of similitude, determines the 
suggestion. 

While our trains of thought are thus dependent 
upon relations which we do not create, yet they are 
not beyond our control. We can cause our thoughts 
to succeed each other in accordance with certain rela- 
tions rather than others. We can put our minds in 
an attitude favorable to the operation of a particular 
law. The more our thoughts succeed each other ac- 
cording to that law, the greater will be their tendency 
to do so. In this way, in the case of the poet, the 
law of resemblance and of contrast becomes promi- 
nent, and in the case of the philosopher, the law of 
cause and effect. 

" The will," says Dr. Hickok, " may have much 
to do in regulating and controlling the association of 
thought, and an earnest and protracted effort may 
cultivate and discipline this faculty in various direc- 



ASSOCIATIO]sr. 243 

tions. A man may make himself a rhymer, a pun- 
ster, a dealer in charades and anagrams, by certain 

hahits of associating thoughts v/ith words ; or observ- 
ing, inventive, practically effective, by certain associa- 
tions of thonghts with things. An orderly and me- 
thodical train of thought may be cultivated by keep- 
ing the operation of this faculty under the regula- 
tions of time, place, and circumstance, so that the 
thought may be appropriate to the occasion." 

Some w^riters have treated this subject in a man 
ner that has led to erroneous conclusions. They have 
'regarded the mind as wholly passive in respect- to its 
trains of thought — as helplessly subject to the laws 
of association. Our trains of thought, it is said, do 
not depend upon our wills, but upon laws ordained by 
a higher power. We are therefore not responsible 
for them, nor for the conclusions to which they lead 
us. Thus man is not responsible for his belief. He 
may be an infidel and not be to blame for it. Dr. 
Thomas Brown and Lord Brougham teach that men 
are not responsible for their opinions. And there is 
a popular prejudice which regards freedom of opinion 
as inconsistent with responsibility for belief. 

It is true that belief is not under the direct con- 
trol of the will. We cannot believe a proposition by 
willing to believe it. Belief depends upon evidence. 
We can attend to the evidence of a proposition ; we 
can guard against the influence of prejudice. If 
the evidence is adequate, belief follows. Our belief 



244 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

is tluis indirectly under our control. A direct con- 
trol over all our states of mind is not a necessary 
condition of responsibility for our belief. 

We are responsible for the right exercise of our 
minds ; and the right exercise of our minds will re- 
sult in the formation of correct opinions. 

We are responsible for our actions, and we are 
under obligation to act rationally. If we act ration- 
ally, we shall act in accordance with our views of 
truth — that is, with our opinions ; hence the responsi- 
bility reaches back to our opinions. 

God holds us responsible for our opinions. He 
requires us to believe the truth, to form correct opin- 
ions. This is taught throughout the Bible. 

The law of resemblance suggests an important 
mode of procedure in respect to self-culture. When 
we store the mind with choice thoughts, they will, 
by the law of resemblance, introduce similar ones. 
Hence we should become familiar with the best 
thoughts of the best authors. This explains, in part 
at least, the fact of mental assimilation. We become 
like those with whose works we are familiar. 

The laws of association are sometimes considered 
under the head of memory, as though they operated 
only in reviving thoughts that have been experienced. 
This is not the case. If we may be said to remember 
by association, we may be said to reason by associa- 
tion. The laws of association often bring to our 
minds thouo-hts that were never there before. 



ASSOCIATIO]^. 245 

Suppose one is engaged in the work of original 
composition. He designs to prove a particular propo- 
sition. The thoughts which constitute that proof are 
not present to his mind. He cannot directly will 
their presence — that would be to have them already. 
He fixes his attention on the proposition. He watches 
for thoughts which tend to his purpose. From the 
ceaseless flow of thoughts, he selects such as seem 
suited to his purpose. These introduce others of like 
tendency. By degrees the materials for his proof are 
selected. The train from which they were selected 
was in accordance with the laws of association modi- 
fied by his will — -just as is the case in voluntary recol- 
lection. 

In this case, thoughts which were never in the 
mind before, are introduced by the same laws or rela- 
tions which call up thoughts that had formerly been 
in the mind. 

Association is therefore not properly termed a 
faculty. It denotes a mode of the mind's operation 
with respect to several of its faculties. It is true, v/e 
define a faculty to be a mode of the mind's operation : 
association is a mode of the mind's operation, but not 
in the sense in which we use that phrase Avhen we 
would designate a faculty. Associated thoughts form 
a portion of the operations classed under the head of 
memory, of reasoning, of imagination, of the aesthetic 
and moral faculties. Association is a term expressive , 
of our thoughts as successive and related. 



246 ELEMENTS OF II!TTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

A knowledge of the prmci|)les of association is 
specially important to the dramatist, the writer of 
fiction, and the critic. The dramatist and novelist 
form ideal characters which are represented as speak 
ing and acting. Their language and actions must be 
in keeping with their characters. The characters 
must be natural, and their language and action in ac- 
cordance Vv^ith the natural laws of thought and feel- 
ing. The facts connected with association must 
therefore be known to the author. The same is true 
of the critic, whose office is to sit in judgment on the 
productions of the author. One important question 
he is to decide is, Are the characters and incidents of 
the work natural — that is, in accordance with the 
laws of thought and feeling ? A knowledge of those 
laws is a necessary condition of an intelligent de- 
cision. 

The principle of habit is usually referred to asso- 
ciation. The law or fact which underlies habit is not 
strictly a law o£ association, yet it is one of great 
importance. 

The repetition of an act increases the tendency 
to the performance of that act, and increased facility 
in performing it. Repetition continued at stated in- 
tervals forms a habit, which is a condition of mind 
disposing to perform certain acts, and giving facility 
in the performance of said acts. A habit may be 
grafted on an original disposition, or it may be wholly 



ASSOCIATION^. 247 

factitious. The chief object of education is the forma- 
tion of right mental habits. 

Habits are active or passive. One may form a 
habit of industry or a habit of indolence. The one is 
formed by action, the other by inaction. 

A course of action ' which is unpleasant at first, 
becomes pleasant when habitual. Labor is not in it- 
self pleasant to many, if indeed it be to any ; but 
habit makes it agreeable, nay, a source of high enjoy- 
ment. We have, therefore, to fix upon that course of 
exertion which duty requires, and habit will soon 
render it agreeable. 

When a habit is founded on the love of some par- 
ticular indulgence, the pleasure decays as the habit is 
formed, and the pain of want is the stimulus instead 
of expected pleasure. 

Right habits increase our power to do right, and 
lessen the difficulties in our way. The constitution 
of our minds whereby we are rendered capable of 
forming habits, is thus a cause for gratitude to our 
Maker. 

Our great business here is the formation of right 
habits. Right habits, so far as they are perfectly 
formed, render the soul perfect, and confirm it in that 
condition. If one were suddenly made perfectly vir- 
tuous, he would need to form habits of virtue to pre- 
serve him in that condition. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

IMAGINATION. 

You have seen an edifice : when absent from it, 
you can form a mental image of it — can see it with 
the mind's eye. The capacity of the mind for per- 
forming this act, is termed imagination. The act is a 
simple one, and is thus incapable of definition. We 
use figurative language v/hen we call it an image. 
There can he no literal resemblance between an edi- 
fice, — material object, and an act of the immaterial 
mind. 

It may be said the image of the edifice is a re- 
membrance, more or less perfect, of its appearance. 
This is true ; but the image-making power is clearly 
distinguishable from the remembering power. This 
appears from the fact that we can form images of 
things which we have not seen. A skilful description 
of the edifice will enable us to form an image of it, 
almost as complete as if we had seen it. To remem- 
ber is to recall past mental states, recognizing them 
as past. The process of image-making will take 
place in remembering according to the nature of the 



IMAGINATIOIfr. 249 

mental acts recalled, and the habits of the inclivid- 
iial's mind. 

We can also form images of things which never 
have existed. An architect forms a mental image of 
the edifice he is about to erect. 

This image-making power has been called by some 
writers conception. Conception is by them defined 
to be the power to form an image of an object pre- 
viously perceived. It is comparatively of little con- 
sequence what name is given to a mental act, so that 
the act be clearly stated. 

Those who would designate the image-making 
power by the term conception, apply the term imagi- 
nation to the process by which conceptions are com- 
bined into new wholes. For example, one may take 
conceptions of different features, and selecting one 
from one man and another from another, may form a 
new combination of features differing from any that 
has existed. He must select his features, which said 
writers call an exercise of abstraction, and combine 
them, and the result is a product of imagination. 
Imagination, they tell us, is thus a complex opera- 
tion, to which abstraction, conceptioli, and taste 
render their aid. The objection to this statement is, 
that the calling in the aid of several faculties tends 
to produce obscurity, if not confusion^^ in the reader's 
mind. 

The operation of forming new wholes, whatever 
we may call those wholes, is a complex operation. 
11* 



250 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Let the object be to form an image, conception, or 
product of imagination, different from any thing 
before known. Let the object be to form an imagi- 
nary castle differing from any castle that has existed. 
The mind selects from castles which it has seen, or 
heard, or read of, certain parts, and out of these parts, 
which exist as mental images, it forms a new whole. 
We cannot tell how it does this: we know that 
it does do it. Nothing is gained by saying that 
abstraction selects the materials, that judgment or 
taste approves the selection. Li the complex opera- 
tions referred to imagination, mental acts which we, 
when classifying mental acts, refer to separate facul- 
ties, find a place. The same is true of all complex or 
combined mental operations, whether they have refer- 
ence to the formation of images, the discovery of 
truth, or its communication. An act of imagination 
is not the act of something separate from the mind ; 
it is the mind acting in a particular way — putting 
forth peculiar acts, forming images. 

The power of forming mental images is possessed 
by all men, but, like other powers, is not possessed 
by all in the same degree. Some can form distinct 
and vivid images of objects which they have seen, or 
which are described in language ; others form dim 
and indistinct images. 

Some readily form images of objects thus set 
before them, but are destitute of the power of form- 
ing new images. They can only repeat the processes 



IMAGINATION. 251 

of other minds. This has heen termed a passive ex- 
ercise of the imagination. 

An active exercise is said to consist in forming 
new images, by means of the process of selection and 
combination above noticed. 

An author is said to have a creative imagination 
who produces new scenes and new characters. Is it 
certain that the process of construction is that assum- 
ed above ? Did Shakespeare, when he created a new 
character, take one quality from one real character 
and another from another, and tlius form a new char- 
acter out of old materials ? To answer this question 
by an appeal to consciousness, it would be necessary 
to have the consciousness of one possessing a creative 
imagination. May not the mind possess a power 
more strictly analogous to the creative ? In the orig- 
ination of a new character, may not the process be 
that of construction from analogy — not that of selec- 
tion and combination ? May there not be a difference 
between a combination of cognized parts into a new 
whole, and the production of a new whole analogous 
to something previously known ? 

One man studies a picture. He makes a copy of 
it, or changes it by introducing some parts from an- 
other picture. Another studies the same picture. 
Conceptions are awakened which he throws upon the 
canvas. His work is not made up of parts of the 
pictures studied, and yet it was occasioned by the 
study of them. May we not safely affirm that the 



252 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 

original productions of the mind referred to imagina- 
tion are more nearly allied to the creative than to the 
formative ? I am aware that this is not pointing out 
in what the distinction consists. 

The power of imagination is not to be confounded 
with the power to cognize beauty. In order to form 
beautiful imaginative creations, there must be the 
power of cognizing beauty; but the power to cognize 
beauty may be possessed by one who has little or no 
power of imagination, formative or creative. 

One who abounds in the use of jBgures is said to 
have a fine imagination, whereas his characteristic 
power is that of cognizing analogies. With it is 
probably always connected the power of forming 
mental images, but not of necessity the power of pro- 
ducing new combinations. "When Burke's gorgeous 
imagination is spoken of, reference is had to his power 
of cognizing analogies. Analogies are cognized, not 
created. A man looks upon the fading leaf, and 
exclaims, "We all do fade as a leaf." He sees an 
analogy. He creates nothing. The act is cognitive, 
not imaginative. 

The forming a mental image of a visible object 
is the act which gives designation to the power 
under consideration. There are other acts, by no 
means identical with it, referred to the same power. 
We form an imaginary character. Grant that it is 
made up of traits selected from characters known to 
us, yet the conceptions of those traits are not images 



IMAGINATIOl!*r. 253 

in the sense in wliich our conception of St. Peter's 
is an image. A conception of a character difters from 
a conception of a landscape. The idea of the pictur- 
able enters into the one, and not into the other. 

An imaginary conversation is held. There may 
be images of persons supposed to he conversing, but 
there are no images of the sentences supposed to be 
uttered. 

We thus apply the term imaginary to things un- 
real as distinguishable from real : we do not confine 
the term to the picturable. 

Poetry and fiction are said to be the products of 
imagination. By this is meant, that acts which we 
term acts of imagination have a prominent place in 
said works. The plan of a work of fiction, its char- 
acters and incidents, may be imaginary — that is, the 
mental acts expressed in language are those that we 
refer to the head of imagination ; but much of the fill- 
ing up of 4he plot may consist of acts that we refer to 
other heads. Sound reasoning, admirable illustrations 
of important principles, are found in works termed 
works of imagination. Poetry is not necessarily the 
product of imagination. There are scenes in nature, an 
accurate description of which — an accurate statement 
of the truth in relation to which — constitutes poetry. 
The poetry of a stanza or stanzas may consist of the 
expression of a fine analogy. There are human ac- 
tions, the simple record of v^hich constitutes poetry. 

There are operations far removed from poetry and 



254 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

fiction, in wHcli acts of imagination have a prominent 
place. A military commander forms his plan of a 
campaign. He has a mental image of the country 
which is the theatre of y/ar, of his own army and 
that of the enemy, and of the movements which will 
probably be made. He fights imaginary battles, and 
conducts an imaginary campaign. Here is a series 
of mental operations of great importance, tending to 
great practical results. Of this series, processes that 
are legitimately referable to imagination form an 
essential part. The series abounds with sound rea- 
sonings, but they are founded on supposititious or 
imaginary events. A good imagination may be said 
to be essential to a great military commander. 

The same is true of all men of enterprise and fore- 
cast. Plans having reference to the future call into 
exercise the constructive power of the mind as truly 
as did the composition of "Paradise Lost." In such 
cases there is no call for the aesthetic element. A man 
may be a great general and a great man of business 
without having the power of perceiving beauty. 

Hypotheses are imaginary solutions of scientific 
questions, and have often been formed as the guides 
of experiment. If experiment proves the hypothesis 
to be true, the hypothesis becomes a theory. Ima- 
gination has, therefore, much to do with scientific 
progress. 

Imagination -is most important with respect to 
models; that is, the mental operation of forming 



IMAGINATIO:^. 255 

models is most important. No one in any depart- 
ment of effort attains an excellence transcending his 
conception of excellence. He alyv^ays comes short 
of it. In the fine arts, the artist never realizes the 
full beauty of his ideal. The artist has his model — 
his conception of excellence. To realize it on the 
canvas, or in marble, or in the anthem, is the object 
of his effort. He vfho cannot form a conception of 
high excellence can never become an original artist. 
He can be only a copyist, an imitator. 

The painter or sculptor repairs to those portions 
of the world where the most perfect specimens of art 
are to be found. These specimens he studies, not 
that he may imitate them, but that he may be aided 
in forming conceptions, models, to which he may 
give a local habitation and a name. 

The importance of models is not confined to the 
fine arts. They have their place in every department 
of human effort where excellence is sought. Espe- 
cially are they important in the most important of 
all arts, the art of forming a strong, beautiful, and 
holy mind. 

Every student should form a true conception of 
excellence in regard to character and attainment. 
One of the great advantages of biography is to ena- 
ble us to form models of excellence, to the realization 
of which our efforts should be directed. 

The importance of models in relation to the forma- 
tion of character appears from the fact, that one ob- 



256 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PRILOSOPHr. 

ject of Christ's mission was to furnish a perfect model 
of human excellence — a conception that no man be- 
fore His time ever attained. There is no proof that 
the idea of a perfect manhood was ever possessed by 
any one who did not derive it from a knowledge of 
the character of Christ. In all our efforts at self-im- 
provement, regard should be had to the perfect model 
set before us in the character of Christ. To neglect 
this model when aiming at excellence of character, 
were more unwise than to close our eyes on the 
beauty of nature when attempting to improve our 
power of cognizing beauty. 

The legitimate operations of imagination are at- 
tended with enjoyment and profit. Even the perver- 
sion of this power is attended with enjoyment. The 
day-dreamer is happy for the time being. 

Hence, imagination should receive proper culture 
in the work of self-improvement. The imagination 
is cultivated, as memory and the reasoning faculties 
are cultivated, by exercise. The mind performs the 
process of reasoning more readily in proportion as it 
is exercised in reasoning. The mind performs the 
process of imagining the more readily in proportion 
as it is exercised in imagining. 

How shall it be exercised ? By reading works of 
imagination, by forming wise plans and scientific hy- 
potheses. 

It is supposed by some that the chief exercise of 
the imagination consists in reading works of fiction. 



IMAGIKATIOX. 257 

In regard to a vast number of such works, they con- 
tain very little that can he legitimately said to he the 
product of imagination. There are few writers of 
creative power. The y/orks of such writers only are 
worthy of being read. The works of such writers, 
unless they contain moral poison, will always be 
read with profit. 

The mind grows by intimate communion with su- 
perior minds. Intimacy with a man of genius, per- 
sonally or by his works, will promote mental im- 
provement. Who ever read and understood Shake- 
speare, Milton, Bunyan^ Dickens, and Thackeray, with- 
out receiving not merely amusement, but mental 
profit? 

We cannot associate habitually with feeble minds 
without injury to ourselves. We cannot become fa- 
miliar with the works of feeble minds without injury. 
The mass of fiction with which the press groans is for 
the most part the product of feeble minds, and hence 
should be avoided altogether. 

" We may cultivate the imagination," says Dr. 
Wayland, " by studying attentively works most dis- 
tinguished for poetical combination. I say study at- 
tentively, in distinction from the mere cursory peru- 
sal of classical authors. Vf e must not only read, but 
meditate on the sublime and beautiful in thought, un- 
til we feel the full force of every analogy, entering 
into the spirit of the writer himself, if we would avail 
ourselves of the most successful efforts of human 



258 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

genius. We thus acquire the intellectual habits of the 
masters of human thought. In the language of poetry 
we catch a portion of their inspiration, instead of ser- 
vilely rendering their thoughts in our own language. 
It is by a diligent study of a few of the best writers, 
and not the hasty reading of many, that we derive 
the greatest benefit from the study of the classics of 
our own or any other country." These remarks have 
reference to mental culture in general, as well as to 
imagination. 

The propriety of using fiction as the vehicle of 
truth, is settled by the example of Christ. The para- 
bles of the New Testament furnish the requisite au- 
thority for those who, like Bunyan, would use the 
gifts of imagination bestowed upon them in teaching 
and enforcing truth. 

Some seem to suppose that high powers of imagi- 
nation and of reasoning are incompatible. We have 
thus far seen nothing in the character of the opera- 
tions classed under the heads of imagination and 
reasoning which would show any incompatibility. 
So far is this prejudice from being true, it may safely 
be afiirmed that the right cultivation of one faculty 
has a tendency to strengthen all the faculties. This 
is only saying that the legitimate action of the mind 
in one class of operations, quickens its power to per- 
form other operations. The legitimate use of the axe 
strengthens the arm to use the plane. 

The term fancy has been employed in several 



IMAGIKATION". 259 

meanings. With Stewart it is the power of cognizing 
analogies. " It is," says he, " the power of fancy 
which supplies the poet with metaphorical language, 
and with all the analogies which are the foundation 
of his allusions. But it is the power of imagination 
which creates the complex scenes he describes, and 
the fictitious characters which he delineates." 

Some of the German writers give the name fancy 
to the spontaneous exercise of imagination — sponta- 
neous as distinguished from voluntary. 

I think the prevailing usage of the term fancy is 
to express the lighter forms of imagination. A 
scheme or plan which is but remotely analogous to 
truth, which pays but little regard to the natural, is 
said to be a fanciful scheme. The productions of an 
ill-regulated imagination v/ould often be termed fan- 
ciful. 

Some operations are improperly ascribed to the 
imagination. It is said that a man passing through a 
graveyard at night imagined that he saw a ghost. 
What were the facts of the case ? He saw a white 
rose in bloom, and under the influence of fear inferred 
that it v/as a ghost. His error was a false conclusion 
from a sense-perception. 

A man imagines that he has been slighted, when 
he has not. He has drawn a conclusion that the facts 
in regard to his treatment did not warrant. 

A well-developed imagination is a source of en- 
joyment and of power. We cognize truth in the 



260 ELEMEl^TS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

concrete, not in the abstract. We arrive at general 
truths by means of individual truths. The dramatist, 
the vrriter of imaginary histories, has it in his power 
to communicate truth more effectively than the phi- 
losopher. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



THE WILL. 



The will is the mind v/illiiig — not a separate 
agent, as the language often used respecting it would 
imply. It has been called the executive faculty, and 
the attributes of personality have been assigned to 
it. To such an extent has this been the case, that it 
is difficult to think on this subject without regarding 
the will as an entity controlling the mind. Let it be 
remembered that by the voluntary faculty, or the 
will, we mean simply the capacity of the mind to per- 
form acts of volition ; just as by memory we mean 
the capacity of the mind to recall past thoughts and 
feelings. An act of the will is an act of the mind — 
the mind willing or performing an act of volition. 
We must guard against the impression that the will 
is an agent separate from the mind, and controlling 
its acts. 

The mind, then, has the power of performing acts 
of volition. A volition cannot be defined. It is a 
simple act, and is known only in consciousness. You 



262 eleme:^ts of intellectual philosophy. 

will to move your arm; the motion takes place. 
The volition causing the motion is clearly defined in 
consciousness, though it cannot be in language. 

Volitions sustain important relations to other 
mental acts. They are conditioned on other acts or 
states of mind, and influence succeeding acts or 
states. 

Volition is alvf ays preceded by desire. Desire is 
a simple feeling known in consciousness, but incapable 
of analysis or definition. Consciousness testifies that 
eyerj volition is preceded by some desire. Contem- 
plate any volition of which you have been conscious. 
Why did you put forth that volition ? Ton v/ill find 
that some desire occasioned it. 

If you doubt the truth of the affirmation, if you 
think the mind can will without having aoy desire 
whatever to do so, make the experiment ; perform an 
act of will without any antecedent desire : you will 
probably find yourself in the condition of a pupil who 
stoutly contended that he could put forth a volition 
without any antecedent desire if he heed a mind to. 

There is in consciousness a plain distinction be- 
tween the state of mind termed desire and the state 
of mind termed volition, though some writers regard 
them as identical. It is thouHit that some difiiculties 
are avoided by regarding them as identical. But we 
should consult consciousness, and abide by its deci- 
sions — not departing from them in the vain hope of 
avoiding difficulties. 



THE WILL. 263 

A man desires to take a journey. The desire may 
Ibe felt for years before the will to take the journey is 
put forth. Those who regard desire and volition as 
identical, say that what we call volition is simply an 
intense form of the desire. It is true that the desire 
may become gradually or suddenly more intense, and 
the consequence may be a volition ; but the volition 
is clearly distinguishable in consciousness from the 
desire. 'No man ever mistook a desire for his dinner, 
however great that desire, for the act of willing to eat. 

Will it be said that we sometimes will in opposi- 
tion to desire? The error implied in this assertion 
arises from failing to distinguish between two desires 
that may be felt at the same time. Let us consider 
an example of willing in opposition to desire. A 
child has no desire to go to school, and yet he goes : 
of course he wills to go. Does he will to go in oppo- 
sition to his desire? He wills in opposition to his 
desire to stay at home or go to the play-ground, but 
not in opposition to his desire to avoid punishment 
which might follow truancy. Let the question, " Why 
did he go ? " be answered. It will be foimd that he 
was influenced by some motive — a desire to please his 
parents, or to avoid punishment, or a sense of duty. 

The mind is free in willing. No material restraint 
is laid upon it. No mental restraint is laid upon it. 
The mind is conscious when it wills that it exercises 
freed^om. 

What is meant by freedom of v/ill — the theme 



264 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

of SO much discussion? It may be replied, The free- 
dom of tlie mind in willing. If it Ibe asked, In what 
does the freedom of the mind in willing consist ? I 
do not know that any better answer can be given than 
that it consists in being free. To speak of the freedom 
of voluntariness is to speak of the freedom of freedom. 
Freedom with respect to mental operations, if not 
identical with voluntariness, is inseparable from it. 

A man acts freely when he acts without constraint 
— when he does as he pleases. It would be a singu- 
lar definition of free acting, to say that he acts freely 
when he does not do as he pleases. By action is 
meant voluntary action. In all such action, volition 
is the essential element. What can be affirmed of the 
action can be affirmed of the volition. 

To act as one pleases, is to act in accordance with 
one's desires. The mind is free as respects volition 
when it can vf ill as it desires to. That it can and does 
thus will, is attested by every one's consciousness. 

The freedom of fhe mind in willing is an intuitive 
truth. It is seen by all who are capable of account- 
able action. When one says, "I feel that I am a 
free moral agent," he gives expression to an intuitive 
cognition. 

Hence, that man is a free moral agent does not 
require proof. All arguments against it must be fal- 
lacious — as are all arguments brought against intui- 
tive truths. Whether we can detect the fallacy or 



THE WILL. 205 

not, makes no difference as to our convictions in re- 
gard to human freedom. 

It may be said. There are some who deny that the 
will is free — who hold to the doctrine of fatalism. 
Now, as it is characteristic of self-evident truths that 
they are admitted by all, it follows that the freedom 
of the will, or rather of man in willing, is not a self 
evident truth. 

It is true that the mark of an mtuitive or self-evi- 
dent fact is, that it is admitted by all either in words 
or by action. That the things around us are real, 
not mere subjective illusions, is a self-evident truth; 
but there are philosophers who profess to believe that 
they are merely subjective — there are idealists. Still, 
in their practical conduct, they regard a wall as a 
wall, and an enraged animal as a reality, and not a 
subjective idea. By their action they recognize the 
truth that the objects around us are real. 

There are men who profess to disbelieve in human 
freedom and human accountability ; but let any one 
appropriate the property of such men, and they will 
complain of the injustice done them, and demand the 
punishment of the offender. They thus recognize the 
doctrine of human freedom and human accountability. 

We have seen that some desire always precedes a 
volition ; we have seen that man wills as he pleases — 
that is, as he desires : does he always will in accord- 
ance with the strongest desire ? Suppose there are 
two desires in his mind at the same time, or that they 
12 



266 ELEMENTS OF KSTTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

succeed each other in alternation so rapidly that, for 
all practical purposes, it is the same as if they were 
co-existent. Suppose one desire is stronger than the 
other : in accordance with which will the man Avill ? 
Which will lead him to determine to do or not to do 
a certain thing, the stronger or the weaker desire ? 
It may be said, he may follow which one he pleases. 
True ; hut which will he please to follow, the weaker 
or the stronger desire ? 

The proper method of deciding in this case, is 
for each one to consult his own consciousness — his 
own experience. Take a case in which two or more 
desires were felt, and a decision was to be made. 
Note the decision made, and which desire it was the 
result of. Can any one find a case in which he acted 
in accordance with the weaker desire — did one thing 
when he had a greater desire to do another practi- 
cable thing — another thing equally within his capacity 
for action ? 

It is said that we ground our assertion, that the 
mind wills in accordance with the strongest desire, on 
the fact that the act of will v/as performed. We are 
charged with saying that the desire was the strongest 
because volition resulted from it. Instead of this, we 
affirm that the mind is capable of comparing two 
desires, and of cognizing their relative strength. The 
question whether the mind is influenced to will by the 
stronger or feebler desire, can thus be referred to 
consciousness, and a definite decision can be reached. 



THE WILL. 267 

Cannot a man act in accordance with the weaker 
desire, if he chooses to ? Is not this choosing an- 
other form of expressing the fact that, on the whole, 
the so-called weaker desire is the stronger; or that 
the object of the supposed weaker desire is desired 
more than the object of the supposed stronger desire? 
Suppose the two objects of desire be a suit of clothes 
and a horse. It is readily supposable that the desire 
for the horse is stronger than the desire for the suit 
of clothes. If it be — if we knoy,^ it to be so — then 
could we not confidently predict that he would pur- 
chase the horse ? What Y/ould be the ground of our 
prediction ? Would it not be the uniform experience 
that we have had, that men act according to the 
strongest desire ? 

Suppose our predictions fail to be realized : the 
clothes are purchased. We inquire how this came to 
pass, when the desire for the horse was the strongest. 
We learn that certain other conditions were present- 
ed to his mind : his parents expressed their disappro- 
bation of his purpose to purchase the horse; the 
clothes were highly commended by one in whose 
taste he had confidence; these and other considera- 
tions influenced him. The combined desire to please 
his parents and to possess the clothes became 
stronger than the desire which y/e supposed Yfould 
occasion a decision. 

Observe, we do not affirm that the strongest de- 
sire governs the mind just as the heaviest Vv^eight 



268 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY, 

brings down the balance. The presence of this and 
kindred false analogies has vitiated a great deal of 
the thinking that has been exercised on this subject. 
The mind is not a passive subject, in which desires 
spontaneously spring up and irresistibly control it : it 
is an active free agent, that can do what it has a 
mind to, and does do what it has a mind to. 

Desires, it is true, are in their origin spontane- 
ous ; but the mind has an indirect control over them 
— can repress or indulge them, and can thus, in view 
of them, determine its own volitions. 

Man' has thus a self-determining povv^er. No 
being wills for him. He wills himself as he pleases. 
To say that the will has a self-determining power, is 
to say that the mind has a self-determining power. 
The will is nothing apart from the mind willing. 
The question is whether the mind determines its 
volitions in view of motives or without motives, or 
in opposition to all motives ? 

What are motives ? Are they external to the 
mind, or internal ? A man's motives are the reasons 
of his conduct. Man is a reasonable being, and 
should have a reason for all that he does — that is, for 
all his voluntary actions. To act from good motives, 
is to be a good man ; to act from bad motives, is to 
be a bad man. 

A man's motives, it was said, are the reasons of 
his conduct ; they are internal — being conscious 
states of mind for which he is responsible. External 



THE WILL. 269 

objects may be the occasion of producing states of 
mind wMcli constitute motives. An apple may 
attract one's attention and awaken a desire to pos- 
sess it, and that may lead to effort — acts of will. 
The desire to possess it was a motive. The apple 
itself, irrespective of the desire, cannot be a motive. 
What is true of the apple, is true of all objects ex- 
ternal to the mind. They are not motives, but may 
be the occasion of motives. Every motive, before 
it causes action, takes the form of a desire. The 
word motive is more comprehensive than desire, and 
includes the states of mind which give rise and 
modification to desire. '^ 

Consciousness affirms that man acts from motives. 
We can recall no act of our own that had not some 
motive — was not incited by some desire. The mo- 
tive may have been a very foolish one — a very frivo- 
lous desire ; but some motive there was. To the 
question, Why did you do so ? some answer can be 
given. Insolence may say. Because I chose to do 
so, or had a mind to ; but something was antecedent 
to the deed, and connected with it. 

To say that men determine their acts in view of 
the strongest motive, is to say that they act in ac- 
cordance with the strongest desire. No state of 
mind influences the decision of the mind, except as 
it awakens a desire or desires. To say that men de- 
termine their actions in view of motives, and that 
they always act in accordance with the strongest 



270 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

motive, is simply to say that men act in accord* 
anc€ with their strongest desires. 

There is a caricature of this doctrine which rep- 
resents motives as external, and the strongest as gov- 
erning the mind. Man is thus under the control of 
objects without him, and is as destitute of freedom 
as the vessel without a rudder which must go be- 
fore the wind. 

To avoid this conclusion, they claim for the will a 
self-determining power ; they claim for man a power 
to will without motives, and in opposition to all mo- 
tives. This they think essential to freedom. They 
admit that man usually, if not uniformly, acts from 
motives ; but he must, they think, have power to 
rise above them, and act independently of them, or 
he cannot be free. 

To this view there is the objection, that we are 
always conscious of acting from some motive, and 
always take it for granted that all other men act 
from motives. The moral character of acts is 
judged of by the motives. We proceed upon the 
conviction that human actions have motives, just as 
we proceed upon the conviction that physical events 
have causes. 

To affirm that man must have a power to will 
without motives and in opposition to all motives, 
and yet to confess that he seldom if ever exercises 
that povv^er, while he is nevertheless free, seems to be 
somewhat inconsistent. 



THE WILL. 271 

!Again, to act without motive is to act without 
a reason. To contend, therefore, that a man must be 
able to act without motives in order to he free, is to 
contend that he must he able to act irrationally in 
order to be free. Wherein would a mental act, 
prompted by no motive whatever, differ as to ration- 
ality from the movement of a limb by galvanism ? 

This view is a false inference from a fact of con- 
sciousness—the fact of remorse. When we are con- 
scious that we have done wrong, we are conscious of 
guilt ; and. in the consciousness of guilt is involved, 
the consciousness that we might have acted differ- 
ently. If there were no power to act differently, 
there could be no sense of blame. The false infer- 
ence drawn from this fact is, that we might have 
acted differently, all our feelings which preceded 
volition and all the circumstances heing the saine. 
The error lies in assuming that our conviction that 
we might have acted differently, is a conviction that 
we might have acted differently all motives and cir- 
cumstances being the same. This assumption is un- 
warranted. 

Suppose, in a moment of passion occasioned by 
a false view of the conduct of another, you strike 
him and inflict a serious injury. In a short time you 
are conscious that you have done wrong. Tou see 
that there was no cause for your anger, and that, if 
there had been, you had no right to yield to it. Tou 
say to yourself, " I ought not to have been so hasty. 



272 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

A moment's reflection would have made it plain that 
I was in error. I ought to have been on my guard 
against the impulse of passion, and controlled my- 
self." You would feel that you could have acted 
differently, by having had a different state of mind — 
different motives. You would not feel that, had you 
been just as hasty, thoughtless, and unguarded as 
you were, you could have acted differently. The ob- 
ligation to have acted differently involves the obliga- 
tion to have had different motives, and does not 
prove that you can act without motives. 

All our control over our mental operations is in- 
direct. We cannot, by an act of mere volition, cause 
any thought or feeling to be present to the mind. 
We may will to do things adapted to cause the pres- 
ence of said thought or feeling. We control our 
mind as we control nature, by obeying its laws. 

Motives are sometimes spoken of as existing with- 
out the mind, whereas they are states of mind. These 
states of mind may be occasioned by external objects. 
When an external object awakens a desire vfhich 
leads to action, that object is loosely spoken of as the 
impelling motive. A thief breaks into a bank, and 
steals a quantity of gold. The gold is said to have 
influenced his action. It is true that the gold pre- 
sented a temptation to him ; but this was in conse- 
quence of the condition of his mind. If his mind had 
been in a perfectly healthy moral condition, the gold 
would have presented no temptation. Its power over 



THE WILL. 2'73 

the thief was owing wholly to the thievish condition 
of the mind. For that condition said thief was re- 
sponsible. 

What is true of the gold, is true of all external 
objects as to their power to produce voluntary action. 
So far as they influence the mind in connection with 
volition, it is owing wholly to the subjective condition 
of the mind, for which consciousness asserts that we 
are responsible. 

We are responsible for certain states of mind irre- 
spective of the means by which they were produced. 
A malignant disposition is the object of moral disap- 
probation, whether that disposition was caused by 
voluntary acts or was inherited. To say that one is 
to blame for having a malignant disposition, is to say 
that he ought to have a different disposition, and that 
he might have a different disposition. If the disposi- 
tion was born with him, how could he be without it ? 
Here we had better confess our ignorance than deny 
the facts of consciousness. Some deny that we inherit 
from our first parents any evil dispositions, though 
the fact is afiirmed by the Word of God, and is in 
keeping with universal experience. 

So in regard to our volitions. We should admit 
the facts attested by consciousness, whether we can ex- 
plain the difficulties or not. We ara conscious that our 
volitions are preceded by desires, and that we always 
will in accordance with the strongest desire. In our 
consciousness of blame for doing a wrong act, is in- 
12* 



274 ELEMENTS OP INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

volved the consciousness of avoidability ; that is, that 
we might have acted otherwise. We are conscious 
of a self-determining power — that is, of free self- 
determination in view of motives which are states of 
mind for which we are accountable. 

In some minds there seems to be a difficulty of 
reconciling free volitions with any conditions what- 
ever. Such should remember that every thing which 
begins to be is conditioned. Every event is con- 
ditioned on some other event. Our control over all 
our mental operations is a conditioned control. Our 
power to cognize external objects is conditioned on 
putting our organs in certain relations to the object. 
Our power to remember is conditioned on certain 
laws of mind. It may be our duty to have a certain 
thought present to our minds at a certain hour, but 
we cannot place it there by simply willing it. It 
may be our duty to cognize a certain truth, but we 
cannot cognize it by simply willing to cognize it. We 
must turn our attention to the truths on which its cog- 
nition is conditioned. It may be our duty to put forth 
certain volitions at a certain time, but the power to 
do so may be conditioned on certain states of mind. 
The mind's power of willing is conditioned, and yet 
free. The fact that events are conditioned does not 
prove that they are the result of fatal necessity. 

The doctrine set forth in these pages makes our 
volitions dependent upon our dispositions and char- 
acter. Dr. Hickok remarks : " There is in all men a 



THE WILL. 276 

deep consciousness that, somehow, there is an alter- 
native to present disposition and character, and thus 
an avoidability in all voluntary action." 

Whether we are able to explain the " somehow " 
or not, let us admit the testimony of consciousness. 

The impression that the doctrine of the strongest 
motive — that is, the doctrine that the mind deter- 
mines to act or not to act in view of motives, or in 
accordance with the strongest desire — ^is inconsistent 
with freedom of v/ill, is very strong on the minds of 
some able thinkers, and has led them to seek for 
means of avoiding the supposed difficulty. Very few 
such men have failed to see and acknowledge the 
absurdity of volitions without motives and in oppo- 
sition to motives, and yet they have found motives 
in their way, and have sought, as it were, to get rid 
of them. 

McCosh admits that volitions have causes, but 
would seem to deny that the causes of volitions are 
found in antecedent dispositions and desires. He 
says : " V/"e hold — we cannot but hold- — that the prin- 
ciple of cause and effect reigns in mind as in mat- 
ter. Our intuitive belief in causation leads us to 
this conclusion. It is on account of the existence of 
such a connection that we can anticipate the future in 
regard to the actions of intelligent and voluntary 
beings, as well as in regard to changes in material 
substances. It is upon it that we ground our confi- 
dence in the character and word of God. But there 



276 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

is an important difference between the manner in 
whicli this principle operates in body and spirit. In 
all proper mental operations, the causes and the effects 
both lie within the mind. Mind is a self-acting sub- 
stance, and hence its activity and independence." 

He proceeds to give his idea of cause in connection 
with mental phenomena : " The true cause of any 
given mental phenomenon, its unconditional antece- 
dent, which always v/ill produce it, and without which 
it cannot recur, is composed of two things — the im- 
mediately preceding state, and a mental power or 
faculty." 

In case of a volition, then, the cause would be the 
immediately preceding state of mind, and the mental 
power or faculty of wilL He would probably admit 
that the immediately preceding state of mind was a 
desire. We have then a desire as one element of the 
cause, and the will as the other. The will, be it remem- 
bered, is simply the name given to the capacity of 
the mind for willing. The will in action is the mind 
willing. "Why is this power exercised? Why is 
this element of the cause active instead of latent ? 
Is it owing to the presence of the desire ? If so, is 
not this admitting that the mind wills under the in- 
centive of desire ? 

But he does not admit this conclusion. He says : 
" Now, we hold it to be an incontrovertible fact, and 
one of great importance, that the true determiniug 
cause in every given volition is not a mere anterior 



THE WILL. 277 

excitement, but the very soul itself "by its inherent 
power of will." ^ 

No doubt the soul or mind wills — determines its 
own volitions; but why does it determine to put 
forth now sinful volitions, and now holy ones ? What 
is the cause of the difference ? Does it consist " in 
the inherent power of the will " ? Does that phrase 
express any thing more than the fact that the mind 
can will ? To say that the mind can will, is not to 
answer the question, "Why does the mind will thus 
and so ? 

In the following passage he seems to admit the 
doctrine of a non-rational self-determining power : 

" We must ever hold that a mere incitement can 
become a motive only so far as sanctioned by the 
will ; so that it is not so much the incentive that de- 
termines the will, as the will that adopts the incen- 
tive." 

Why does the will — or the mind willing — adopt 
one incentive rather than another? In so doing, 
does it act arbitrarily, without any reason — without 
any motive ? 

Will it be said, Because it chooses to ? Why 
does it choose to ? The expression, the mind wills 
in a particular way because it chooses to, must mean 
either that it wills because it wills, or that it wills 
because it desires to. 

Wherein does sanctioning a motive differ from 
acting in view of it, or at its promptings ? Is there 



278 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

any distinction in consciousness between sanctioning 
an incentive, and acting in accordance with it ? 

Dr. McCosh rarely mistakes words for things, as 
he seems to have done in endeavoring .to avoid the 
supposed difficulty attendant upon the doctrine that 
the mind always puts forth volition in accordance 
with the strongest motive. May not his error arise 
from attempting to seek for profoundness where the 
truth is very simple ? Do not all men, learned and 
unlearned, act on the principle that men will be gov- 
erned by the strongest motive ? 

Let it be remembered that there is no analogy 
between the influence of a motive on the mind, and 
the influence of a weight on a balance. A motive is 
as difierent from a weight as a balance is from a 
mind. We are obliged to use figurative language 
when describing mental operations ; but the borrowed 
terms should not be allowed to give us a distorted 
view of the facts they are borrowed to cypress. This 
has been the case in regard to the matter under con- 
sideration. 

Nothing is gained, so far as we can see, by ascrib- 
ing the will to the spiritual in man. All the thoughts, 
and feelings, and acts of which we are conscious, are 
the thoughts, and feehngs, and acts of the human 
spirit. Some of its operations are conditioned upon 
its connection with the body, some of them have re- 
lation to material realities, and some to spiritual 
realities. It has not yet been shown that the mind, 



THE WILL. 27^ 

when acting in relation to spiritual realities, does not 
proceed on the same principles as when acting in re- 
lation to material realities. Motives drawn from the 
spiritual ought to have more weight than motives 
drawn from the material. When they do not, it is 
owing to the moral condition of the soul — " the 
spiritual disposition " 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



ATTENTIOJSr. 



The subject of attention has been frequently 
noticed in the foregoing pages. Every one knows 
what attention is, tbougb few possess the power of 
attention in a high degree : few have the power of 
fixing the mind upon an unattractive subject, and of 
keeping it fixed till the end aimed at is gained. 

Attention has been treated by some writers as a 
separate faculty : so far as we are conscious of effort 
in relation to attention, the effort is a voluntary one — 
is an act of will. 

It is of little consequence whether we regard it 
as a separate faculty, or as a form of volition ; but it 
is of the utmost consequence that power of attention 
be acquired. 

No object can be seen unless the eyes are turned 
towards it. No spiritual truth can be seen, no propo- 
sition cognized, no complex subject understood, un- 
less the mind be fixed steadily and continuously 
upon it. 



ATTENTIOjST. 281 

It must be remembered that the thinker does not 
create truth ; he only sees it. The original thinker 
simply sees truths that have not been seen before. 
Truths are seen by looking at them — fixing the at- 
tention exclusively upon them. Subjects are not com- 
prehended by a single mental glance. Long-con- 
tinued thoughtfulness — meditation — which consists 
mainly in fixing the attention upon them, is necessary. 

The student's first efforts at attention are not re- 
markably successful. He opens an argumentative 
work, and resolves to master the arguments. He be- 
gins to read with a vigorous effort at attention. Before 
he has reached the bottom of the page, perhaps be- 
fore he has reached the third sentence, he finds his 
attention wandering to other objects. He has read 
the words, perhaps pronounced them aloud, but has 
no idea of the thoughts they were intended to ex- 
press. He begins again, but soon finds his attention 
turned towards objects far removed from the train of 
thought before him. After a score of efforts, per- 
haps, he is able to keep his attention fixed till he has 
reached the bottom of the page. If he will faithfully 
persevere in this course, he will ultimately be able to 
attend to a long argument as easily as he now attends 
to an attractive narrative. 

In all his studies, the student should have reference 
to forming the habit of attention. No exercise is 
more conducive to this than analyzing works of 
thought. Various other advantages will result from 
that exercise. 



282 ELEMENTS OP INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Let the student select, say, an argumentative ora- 
tion of Daniel Webster, or tlie work of some first- 
rate mind; and let him read with the purpose of 
seizing the outline of the plan — the frame-work of 
the discourse. Let him fix his attention on the suc- 
cessive thoughts which constitute the train, noting 
the relation of each one to that which follows. Let 
Mm endeavor to remember each thought by its rela- 
tion to that which preceded it, and not by associating 
it with certain forms of expression, or the place which 
it occupies on the printed page. Let the successive 
thoughts be thus noticed and remembered at the ex- 
pense of as few perusals as possible. Let the succes- 
sive steps be mentally reviewed frequently, now by a 
condensed statement of each point in the train, and 
now by a statement, not of the thoughts, but of the 
relations they sustain to each other. This last will 
compel attention to the thoughts dissociated from the 
language in which they are expressed. Suppose, for 
example, the analysis be on this wise. First there is 
an introductory remark, then a statement of the prop- 
osition, then an argument fi'om analogy in support of 
it, then an illustration drawn from history, then an 
inference from the proposition. Perfect thoroughness 
is thus secured, and the habit of seizing and retaining 
trains of thought formed. 

The discipline thus secured will enable the student 
to arrange in his mind trains of his own construction, 
and keep them as steadily before his mind as if they 



ATTENTIO]^". 283 

were on paper. This power is indispensable to tlie 
extempore speaker. The extempore speaker who 
speaks with power, does not utter that which occurs 
to him after he has risen to speak ; he ntters that 
which he has pre-composed mentally. True, a man 
should acquire the power of " thinking on his legs," — 
of speaking to the point on questions which it was 
impossible for him to premeditate. 

Some of the most eminent public speakers not 
only arrange their trains of thought mentally, but 
even compose the sentences. Robert Hall's cele- 
brated discourse on infidelity was thus pre-composed, 
and the orations of Daniel Webster give abundant 
proof that he possessed and practised this power. 

The exercise of attention is the condition of clear 
apprehension, and is scarcely distinguishable from it. 
We have seen that it is the condition of accurate re- 
membering. Clear apprehension and accurate remem- 
brance are essential to sound reasoning. 

Sir Isaac KTewton ascribed his success to fixed and 
patient attention. Profound investigation is little 
more than concentrated, long-continued attention. 
The power of attention is therefore worthy of assidu- 
ous cultivation. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

TRUTH — UNDERSTAINTDIZSTG AND EEASOIS" FAITH AKD 

KEASON — IISTFINITT. 

We have seen that no definition can be given of 
truth. Every one whose mind is in a normal state 
knows what truth is, or rather knows what true prop- 
ositions are. There are different kinds of truth ; that 
is, there are true propositions relating to different 
classes of objects. There are truths material, spirit- 
ual, sesthetic, moral, etc. Some truths are contingent 
and some are necessary. It is true that there is such 
a place as Moscow. There was a time when it was 
not true. There may come a time when it will not 
be true. The earth revolves around the sun once a 
year. There was a time when it did not revolve, and 
there may be a time when it will not revolve. Such 
truths are called contingent ; not because they are not 
subject to uniform laws, but to distinguish them from 
necessary truths. 

The whole is greater than its part, is a true propo- 
sition, necessarily true. That it should not be true 



285 

is an impossibility. There is no sucli impossibility 
attaching to propositions affirming contingent truth. 

The truths of geometry are necessary truths. 
That all right angles are equal, always was and 
always will be true, everywhere. 

How can contingent truths be distinguished from 
necessary tru^ths ? Some writers state the marks of 
necessary truths, such as absolute certainty, and the 
fkct that the opposite of a necessaiy truth is not only 
false but absurd. These are facts respecting neces- 
sary truths ; but we do not look at these facts and 
infer from them that the truth is a necessary one. 
We distinguish between contingent and necessary 
truths hj direct seeing. When we cognize a contin- 
gent truth, we cognize it as contingent; when we 
cognize a necessary truth, we cognize it as necessary : 
just as when we cognize a white object, we cognize 
it as white, and when we cognize a black object, we 
cognize it as black. Some contingent truths are cog- 
nized directly and some indirectly ; the same is true 
of necessary truths. 

Some waiters refer contingent truths to the under- 
standing, and necessary truths to the reason. It is 
the mind which distinguishes contingent from neces- 
sary truths, not certain imaginary entities called un- 
derstanding and reason. 

The distinction betvfeen the understanding and 
reason, to which so great importance is attached by 
some, is simply the distinction between contingent 



286 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

and necessary truth — a distinction by no means of 
modern discovery, as is \yell known to those who are 
at all acquainted with the earlier English writers on 
morals and theology. 

Some Y/riters seem to teach that necessary truths, 
or the truths of reason, are more intimately connected 
with the mind than contingent truths — truths of the 
understanding. They use language which implies 
that some necessary truths are native to the mind, 
and are evolved from it on certain occasions. 

There is no reason to think that any truth is native 
to the mind in any other sense than that the mind 
has capacity to cognize it. The relation of the mind 
to all kinds of truth is the same. The mind cognizes, 
truth is cognized. No truths are evolved from the 
mind except as the mind is the object of cognition. 

It is commonly supposed that greater certainty 
attaches to necessary than to contingent truths. All 
necessary truths are certain, absolutely certain. But 
all contingent truths are not therefore A^oid of cer- 
tainty. A contingent truth may be as certain as a • 
necessary truth. It is certain that there is such a 
place as London. It is certain that Washington lived. 
We are as certain of the truth of these propositions 
as Ave are of the proposition which affirms the equal- 
ity of alternate angles. 

All necessary truths are certain. Some contingent 
truths are certain, and some are doubtful. The un- 
certainty of a truth has reference to our cognizing 



287 

power, not to the truth itself. If it be a truth, if the 
proposition is true, it is certainly true. 

Another distinction of importance is that between 
intuitive and deductiye truths. Intuitive truths are 
also called self-evident truths. Some writers seem to 
regard intuitive truths as coming from the mind, 
whereas they come from the mind only in the sense 
that they are cognized by the mind. Intuitive 
truths do not constitute a class of truths generically 
different from other truths, as geometrical differ from 
geological truths. The term intuitive has reference 
to the mode of cognition, not to the nature of the 
truths. Intuitive truths are those which are cognized 
directly, immediately, without the aid of any other 
truths. In every department of knowledge there are 
some truths that are self-evident — which are cognized 
intuitively. Our intuitions are not inspirations- — 
knowledge derived from a source differing from that 
whence our other knowledge is derived. They are 
direct cognitions of the mind. They are native only 
as our cognizing capacity is native. 

Deductive truths are those cognized by the aid of 
other truths. The term would indicate that all truths 
mediately cognized were wrapped up in self-evident 
truths, and deduced from them. Some truths are de- 
duced from other truths ; but some truths are seen to 
be true in conseqence of our having seen certain other 
truths to be true. These cannot properly be said to 
be deduced from those truths, certainly not in the 



288 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

sense of being evolved from them. Inferential would 
perhaps Ibe a better term than deductive. AH our 
cognitions are either intuitive or inferential. We 
infer that a proposition is true, that is, discern its 
truth, in consequence of having discerned the truth of 
some other proposition or propositions. 

If a man denies intuitive truths, he cannot be 
reasoned with. He denies every thing. It does not 
follov/ from this, that all inferential truths are educed 
from intuitive truths. We perceive some things to 
be true because we have intuitively cognized some 
other things to be true. 

What truths have we a right to regard as intui- 
tive ? May every man have a set of intuitions of his 
own ? When he wishes a thing to be true and can- 
not prove it, may he place it among his intuitions ? 
Certainly not. Those truths only can be regarded as 
intuitive which are received as true by all men. In- 
tuitive truths are admitted either by word or deed 
by all men. 

Faith and Reason, — The relation of faith to reason 
is a very simple one. They are not antagonistic, but 
concordant. Faith is confidence in testimony, which 
involves confidence in character. Testimony is a 
source of knowledge. The knowledge of a jury re- 
specting the guilt or innocence of a prisoner is from 
testimony. 

Testimony may give us certain knowledge. Only 
a few Americans have seen the city of Canton, yet all 



TRUTH, ETC. 289 

Americans are sure there is such a city. This certain 
knowledge rests upon testimony alone. It is reason- 
able for a man to believe good testimony ; that is, it 
is reasonable to have faith. 

Religious and secular faith differ only as their 
objects differ. The doctrines of Revelation are re- 
ceived by faith — that is, on the testimony of God. 
It is certainly reasonable to believe God's testimony ; 
therefore it is reasonable to exercise religious faith. 
There is, therefore, no antagonism between religious 
faith and reason. 

If we have God's testimony, it is reasonable to 
believe it, whether we can fally understand it or not. 
To believe that which we do not comprehend, is not 
to believe that which is unreasonable and absurd. 

We must have satisfactory evidence that we have 
God's testimony. We must examine the evidence on 
which the claim of the Bible to be the testimony of 
God rests. If we find satisfactory evidence, the 
Bible is to be believed. 

It may be asked. Suppose it contain contradictions 
and absurdities, are they to be believed ? Certainly 
not. If it contain contradictions and absurdities, 
and it is certain that they are not interpolations, then 
there is not satisfactory evidence that it is God's tes- 
timony; for his testimony cannot be contradictory 
and absurd. The alleged contradictions must be dis- 
posed of in considering the evidence of the Bible's 
being God's testimony. If the conclusion be that the 
13 



290 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

Bible is God's vford, it is reasonable to believe all it 
contains. Faitli, confidence in His testimony and 
character, is in the liighest degree reasonable. 

The Infinite, — There is no such thing as a general 
infinite. There are infinite things or attributes, just 
as there are true propositions; but the infinite and 
the true are not independent entities. We cognize 
infinite objects, and can thus form an abstract idea of 
infinity. The idea is not definable. As we say truth 
is that in y/hich all true propositions agree, so "we may 
say that the infinite is that in which all infinite ob- 
jects agree. 

That \% infinite which has no limit. That which 
we cognize as limitless is to us infinite. We must 
distinguish betv^een the infinite and the indefinite. 
God's Yfisclom is infinite ; it transcends all our 
powers of apprehension. So of His mercy and His 
benevolence. Infinite existence is everlasting exist- 
ence. When we speak of God as the infinite exist- 
ence, we mean that all His attributes are infinite. 

The human mind can form no adequate apprehen- 
sion of the infinite — that is, of infinite things*. And 
yet it is not, properly speaking, a negative apprehen- 
sion which we have of it. The fact that we cannot 
know every thing about a subject or object, does not 
prove that we cannot know any thing about it. The 
fact that we cannot by searching find out God to 
perfection, does not prove that we cannot know many 
things respecting Him. 



TEUTII, ETC. 291 

God is infinite ; that is. His existence and attri 
butes are without limit — transcend all our powers o± 
apprehension. We know that nothing can "be added 
to them. 

There has been a great deal written about the 
absolute and infinite which conveys no meaning to 
such as have not the faculty of understanding the 
unintelligible. Many assertions have been made for 
which there is no proof. For example, Mansel says : 
" That which is conceived as absolute and infinite, 
must be conceived of as containing within itself the 
sum, not only of all actual, 'but of all possible modes 
of being," 

" The nature of man's conviction in regard to in- 
finity," says McCosh, " is fitted to impress us, at one 
and the same time, with the s-trength and the weak- 
ness of human intelligence, which is powerful in that 
it can apprehend so much, but feeble in that it can 
apprehend no more. The idea entertained is felt to 
be inadequate, but this is one of its excellences, that 
it is felt to be inadequate; for it would indeed be lam- 
entably deficient, if it did not acknowledge of itself 
that it falls infinitely beneath the magnitude of the 
object. The mind is led by an inward tendency to 
stretch its ideas wider and wider, but is made to 
know, at the most extreme point which it has reached, 
that there is something further on. It is thus im- 
pelled to be ever striving after something which it has 
not yet reached, and to look beyond the limits of time 



292 ELEMENTS OF INTELLECTUAL PHILOSOPHY. 

into eternity beyond, in which there is the prospect 
of a noble occupation in beholding, through ages 
which can come to no end, and a space which has no 
bounds, the manifestation of a might and an excel- 
lence of which we can never know all, but of which 
we may ever know more. It is an idea which would 
ever allure us up toward a God of infinite perfection, 
and yet make us feel more and more impressively the 
higher we ascend, that we are, after all, infinitely be- 
neath Him. Man's capacity to form such an idea is 
a proof that he was formed by an infinite God, and in 
the image of an infinite God ; his incapacity in spite 
of all his efforts to form a higher idea, is fitted to 
show us how wide the space and how impassable the 
gulf which separates man as finite from God the 
infinite." 



THE EiTD. 

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'^^^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

^ ^^ Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
■ -\ ' ■"': Treatment Date: Sept. 2004 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township. PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 









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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





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